


To Sacrifice the Sun

by Emmilyne



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Depression, F/M, Happy Ending, Humor, Infertility, PTSD, Romance, Slow build/rebuilding love story, Team Dynamics, Very angsty at beginning, but then its lighter and more fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 196,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7510744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmilyne/pseuds/Emmilyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak was recruited by ARGUS directly out of MIT and became one of the youngest Field Agents in their history.  She was the Tech Guru of one of their most elite teams and her partner, Oliver Queen, was the love of her life.  Then a mission went south, with terrible consequences.  Felicity turned from field work and Oliver, hiding away in ARGUS’ hidden R&D center, the Cave. </p>
<p>Five years later, a new evil is infiltrating the world, but it’s looking for the same lost Mayan City and the same missing artifact.  The one’s that Felicity had made herself the world’s leading expert on.  So now she was going to have to face her past, her greatest fears, and her biggest mistakes to find whatever HIVE is after before they do, because if Damian Darhk finds it first, no one on the planet will be safe.</p>
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	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: This story deals with themes surrounding infertility, loss and depression. This chapter, especially. By chapter two there is a lot more humor and the rebuild begins and the ending should be worth it, so I hope you will give it a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found **[here.](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)**

 

 _June 4, 2011_  
_19:46_  
_Flores, Guatemala_

 

As a trained agent, Felicity probably should have put her hand on her gun when she heard the key rattle in the old lock in the whole-in-the-wall rented room on the shore of Lake Peten Itza.  At the very least, she should have looked up from her laptop.

But Felicity had also learned the cadence of those footsteps and knew them better than she knew her own.  She could smell his unique musk mixed with the thick tropical air in the oppressively hot room.  The single, battery-operated fan did little to cool it.

Swiping the sweaty blond curls that had escaped her braid out of her eyes, Felicity considered swapping her contacts for glasses and wondered if the air was actually humid enough to fog them up.  But time was limited, because she also knew that the moment he won his battle with the lock nothing would get done.

So, Felicity kept her eyes on the screen, the laptop sticking to her sweaty thighs as she sat on the hard, narrow bed.  Considering the number of times they had had no bed at all in the last few years, this was a blessing, no matter the mattress quality, and the privacy of their own room before a mission like this was nothing short of a miracle.

The door clicked and Felicity rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to concentrate. Her eyes were starting to feel the strain.  She flipped back and forth between the hieroglyphics and her algorithm.  She just needed to be sure she wasn’t missing anything…

“I think the CO said no more work tonight.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, biting her lip, and stubbornly refused to look at him.  “What Digg doesn’t know won’t hurt him.  Besides, I need to go over this—”

“If I thought for one minute the translations weren’t as perfect as they could  _possibly_  be, I’d agree—”

Snapping the laptop closed (there was no way she was getting anything done now) Felicity turned to him with an exasperated look.

Oliver was leaning against the door, grinning at her with his goddamn  _sex-on-a-stick_ smile, his hair curling slightly in the humidity, his thin t-shirt damp with perspiration, clinging to every one of his gorgeous muscles.  Damn him.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

It melted her.   Every fraking time.

He had given her the nick-name three years ago when he arrived at ARGUS Academy.  At the time, it had held a definite sarcastic (if not outright derogatory) edge, meant to make fun of Felicity’s positive attitude and insistence that they try to look on the bright side of every situation, which hadn’t been easy given her own circumstances. 

But Oliver hasn’t known that and, recently rescued from his own hell, he hadn’t had much use for the silver-lining. 

But, despite his teasing, he had always come back for more.  It had long since stopped being pejorative and turned into a term of endearment.  Now Oliver said (privately of course) that he called Felicity ‘Sunshine’ because she was his light. 

But looking at him now, Felicity couldn’t help but think Oliver was her sun.  This beautiful, scared man, too good for this world, too good for  _her (s_ he secretly felt), who had been dumped into the ARGUS Training Academy less than a year after she had been “persuaded” to join.

It had been that or life in prison for the virus Felicity had created and her ex… _late_  boyfriend had released.  It didn’t take long for her to pack up her meager belongings and board the ARGUS jet to god knows where.  She still didn’t think she could find the Academy on the map. 

Who was she kidding?  Of course, Felicity could find it.  That was why they had wanted her.

Oliver’s choice to join had been much nobler.  He’d struck a deal.  If ARGUS went back to Lian Yu and rescued his friends, he’d join in whatever capacity they wanted.  Considering ARGUS had gotten three other agents from the deal, one now a talented surgeon, they might have gotten the sweet side of that arrangement.

Or maybe Felicity had, because, somehow, Oliver Queen was in her room, looking at her like she was his entire world and, sometimes, she really had no idea how this was her life.  It was both wonderful and exhilarating.  Fulfilling…

And completely  _terrifying_.

Turning her attention to Oliver, Felicity said, “You only call me ‘Sunshine’ when you want something.”

“Not true,” he protested, mock hurt. 

It wasn’t true, not at all, but Oliver was fun to tease.  And it distracted Felicity from the oppressive heat and the fear churning in her gut whenever her thoughts inevitably turned to tomorrow.

“And here I come baring gifts.”  Oliver held up a bottle still wrapped in a paper bag.  “The finest red wine in all of Guatemala.”

A wide grin spread across Felicity’s face, not only because Oliver had excellent taste in red wine, a particular weakness of hers, but because it was becoming apparent that he was in one of his rare playful moods.  And that was something she desperately needed right then.

Placing the laptop on the side-table, Felicity bounced off the bed, already reaching for the bottle.  “Gimme.”

Oliver’s grin widened and he held the bottle over his head, which was very unfair given how much taller he was than her.  “You need to pay the piper first.”  His other arm shot out and reeled Felicity in.

She made an annoyed face, but they both knew it was just for show.  Felicity was already tipping back her head and rising up to her toes to meet Oliver’s lips. 

When she did, Felicity quickly figured out why Oliver was feeling so relaxed.  “You started without me,” she accused in a whisper.  Then she reached up and bracketed his head with her hands, urging it to the side as she slanted her lips over his.  Oliver’s mouth opened immediately and her tongue slipped inside to make a thorough exploration.

“Mmm.  Single malt,” Felicity murmured, licking her lips.  She wasn’t a fan of whiskey, but Oliver was delicious.

“Only the best for John Diggle.”  But that was all Oliver had to say on the matter. The arm he had banded around Felicity’s middle pulled her closer as he dove back in to continue the deep, lazy kiss.

Felicity was starting to feel a little drunk herself by the time she finally backed out of the kiss, with shallow tasting nips and a final rub of her nose against his.  Falling back onto the balls of her feet, she hummed to herself, savoring the lingering taste of Oliver before grabbing the bottle from his now lax hand.

“Why do men insist on getting drunk before a big mission?” Felicity asked saucily as she pulled out of his arms, making sure to do it slow and suggestive, enjoying the way Oliver’s eyes followed her movements.  No one had ever made her feel sexy like he did.

“First of all,” Oliver argued, his heated gaze on her backside as Felicity brought the bottle to the table in the corner of the room, “Sara drank us  _all_ under the table, so none of your sexist talk.”

Felicity laughed, delighted.  “Touché,” she conceded, looking around for something resembling a glass.

“Second of all, I’m not even  _close_  to drunk.” 

Oliver said it as if the notion was ridiculous, as if the mere idea that Oliver Queen would ever deign to suffer the weakness of _inebriation_  was absurd.  He sauntered over and grabbed Felicity’s hand as she tried to pass him, yanking her back into his arms.

“Mmmhmm,” Felicity hummed skeptically.  “So Broody Oliver decided to go away the night before the biggest mission of our lives with…no help at all?”

Oliver’s response was to cup her ass and squeeze.  “I think I have all the help I need right here.”

Felicity slapped his ridiculously big bicep, but gladly accepted his nibbling kiss, which she would concede sent a mixed message.  “If I were enough to drive away broody Oliver—”

“You are,” Oliver insisted, kissing her nose. “But I might be slightly… _relaxed_  from the whiskey.”

“Well, I hope no one is so  _relaxed_  that it interferes with tomorrow.”

Oliver sobered at that and Felicity regretted her words the moment his smile died.  “It never does.” 

And it was true enough.  It was a tradition of sorts for the team to drink together before a big mission.  Caitlin and Felicity usually begged out, preferring to pour over their science and data, but they weren’t Special Ops, they were Science and Tech, and Special Ops, they drank.  And Ronnie.  He was Engineering, but was always up for a drink.

Felicity stroked Oliver’s cheek, gently scratching her blunt nails through his scruff.  “No, it doesn’t.”  Because this was their life.  They faced death around every corner.  But never as acutely as tomorrow.

They stared at each other for a long minute, a simple moment of silent communion before Oliver forced lightness back into his tone, “Besides, I need my CO to be drunk so he doesn’t realize I traded keys with Caitlin.”

Felicity patted his chest, chuckling.  It was so cute that Oliver insisted on thinking any of this was a secret from the rest of the team. 

“Digg knows where you sleep, Oliver.  Digg knows where Ronnie sleeps.”  Felicity slipped out of his arms when she finally spied two mismatched tumblers on the shelf against the wall.  Then over her shoulder, she threw out with a grin, “And I’m pretty sure that was Lyla slipping out of  _Digg’s_ room at 6am when I was doing my first coffee run.”

“No  _shit_ ,” Oliver breathed, dropping into a chair next to the table. 

He was genuinely shocked.  For a trained ARGUS agent who could sense danger a half mile away and seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, sometimes, Oliver was amazingly oblivious.

“Uh… _yeah_.”  Men.  Worthy of an eye roll for sure.

“So, why doesn’t John say anything?”  Oliver groused.  “We’ve been playing this game for years now, pretending there’s nothing going on.  Ronnie and Caitlin’s marriage didn’t  _have_  to be a goddamn secret.”

“They wanted it private,” Felicity soothed, a hand dropping to his shoulder.  “Just the four of us.”  They had served as the only witnesses to their friends’ wedding a few weeks prior.  Caitlin was her best friend and Oliver and Ronnie were like brothers.

Frowning, Oliver pulled Felicity into his lap.  “Our CO just takes a perverse pleasure in torturing us.”

Felicity knew that for a long time now Oliver had wanted to be affectionate in public.  He was  _so_  over the excitement of a ‘secret’ relationship.  And, yes, she actually  _did_  think John enjoyed messing with the younger agents, especially Oliver, who he had long ago taken on as his protégé. 

“Maybe John just thinks we should all keep it on the down low out of respect for Sara and Slade.”  Though, Felicity completely believed it was to torture Oliver and Ronnie.  Mostly Oliver.

“What?” Oliver laughed, relaxing more now that Felicity was on his lap, his hands playing with the frayed edge of her shorts.  “Because Sara and Slade might feel left out just because…three-fourths of the team is hooking up?  Oh god, I can’t believe  _three-fourths_ of the team is hooking up.   Then his eyes widened, a horrified look coming over his face.  “You don’t think Sara and Slade…”

Now  _that_  was funny.  “Dear god,  _no_.”  Felicity shuddered.  She couldn’t help herself.

“Thank  _god_! Not only for the eww factor, but a fight between Sara and Shado is  _not_  something I want to see.”

Felicity leaned in to give Oliver a quick kiss, her hands snaking under the hem of his t-shirt.  “I don’t think you have to worry about it.  There’s absolutely zero interest.”

The corner of Oliver’s lips tipped up.  “I don’t know about that.  Slade found Sara dancing with that busty Latina hottie pretty interesting.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, in disgust this time.  “That’s because Slade’s a Perv.  I have  _no_  idea how Shado puts up with him.  Or why.” 

She swiveled in his lap to grab the bottle, but got distracted by Oliver’s lips on her nape.  His arm wound around her middle to pull Felicity’s back flush with his chest as his teeth scrapped the length of her neck.  His hand gently coiled in her braid, pulling her head to the side so he could have better access.

Felicity moaned, leaning into it.  “And, by the way, I’m pretty sure Slade knows about us too.  I  _know_  Sara does.”  They had had frank conversations about it.  Actually, Sara didn’t even pretend it was a secret.

Grunting, Oliver closed his teeth around Felicity’s earlobe and tugged.  Then he pressed a lingering kiss on her pulse.  “It makes these games we’re playing feel pretty silly.” 

“Hhmmm?”  Felicity rolled her head on his shoulder so she could meet Oliver’s eyes.  She was finally starting to unwind.

But, unfortunately, Oliver’s face had fallen into that old broody expression.  “I’m done hiding what you mean to me.”

Felicity blew out a breath, turning her torso to face him again.  “Oliver, ARGUS—”

“Can go fuck themselves.”

Sighing, Felicity ran her hands over his chest, wishing for playful Oliver back.  She didn’t want to argue tonight and, while this wasn’t the first time Oliver had voiced this complaint, he seemed really serious about it this time.

“Oliver, ARGUS aside, the team is our family.  I know how much that means to you.”  To both of them, really.  They were both closer to these six people than either of them had ever been to their own family.

Oliver’s eyes flashed with determination, turning hard and bright.  “We rock this mission tomorrow, Felicity…we take Reiter down for good, then the team is untouchable.”

“No one is untouchable, Oliver,” Felicity murmured, wishing he were right, but knowing he wasn’t. 

Anxiety and dread was resurfacing again at the mention of tomorrow’s mission.  Because what if they didn’t ‘ _rock it?’_   This was the hardest thing they had ever done.  Their team of eight, as talented as they were, against Reiter, his fraken magic, and god knows how many Shadowspire agents? 

These weren’t odds Felicity wanted to calculate.  But with a brain like hers, the numbers came automatically.  They weren’t pretty.

“Fine, maybe not  _untouchable_ , but they certainly aren’t going to break up their golden team because we’re in a relationship,” Oliver insisted stubbornly.  “Of almost  _two years_.  If it hasn’t ruined the team dynamic yet, why would it going forward?”

Maybe Oliver was right, maybe…but first they had to survive the next 48 hours and Felicity really didn’t need another thing riding on this going their way. 

Suddenly, what she really needed was that wine.  Turning back to the table, Felicity pulled the bottle out of the bag and…

“Oliver, this is  _rum_!”

“Apparently, that’s what constitutes  _really good_  red wine in Guatemala.”

“ _Oliver_!” Felicity groaned, her jaw dropping at his flippant attitude.  What the  _hell_?  She was promised red wine, goddamn it!

Throwing his hands up in surrender, Oliver shrugged.  “I asked the guy for their best red wine and this is what he gave me.  And before you say anything, my Spanish was excellent, not even a little slurred.” 

He leaned around her, reaching both arms over Felicity’s to grab the bottle.  Resting his chin on her shoulder, Oliver twisted off the top of the bottle, his arms bulging, which was clearly an attempt to both placate  _and_  distract her.  Then, to add insult to injury, the sneaky bastard poured her much too much, saying, “Try it.  This shit wasn’t cheap.”

“You’re a sucker.  Why would you accept rum in place of wine?”  Felicity picked up the tumbler, with what was likely a bit too much petulance, and sipped.  Then she decided she was completely justified in her irritation as she immediately broke off in a cough when liquid tore down her throat.

Of _course_ , her asshole boyfriend laughed, low and rich and sexy, which just annoyed her further.

Felicity shot him a death glare.  Then, holding his gaze, she took Oliver’s stupid, unspoken dare and threw back the rest of the dark liquid like a shot, wincing as she did.  She would never understand how people sipped the hard stuff, expensive or not.

“That’s my girl,” Oliver hummed, wrapping her braid around his fist and dipping her head back so he could slant his mouth over hers.  His tongue sought out the taste of rum, helping spread that fire so it spanned out and unfurled throughout her entire body, leaving Felicity feeling lax and warm. 

It wasn’t long before Felicity forgot why she was annoyed.  His tongue chasing all thought from her mind and it wasn’t the first time.   When Oliver backed out of the kiss with one last slow suck of her bottom lip, Felicity let out an involuntary giggle.

“Lightweight,” Oliver teased, his voice warm and his eyes bright.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Nope.”  Tightening the arm around her middle, Oliver reached over and grabbed the liquor with his other hand, taking two long swallows straight from the bottle and swiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Good stuff.  For rum.”

 _Strong_  stuff. 

Felicity pushed back another giggle.   She hated how silly she sounded when she did that.  “Keep drinking like that and you’re going to be a little more than  _relaxed_.”

“The problem is  _you’re_  not relaxed  _enough_.” Oliver smiled as he handed her the bottle.

But Felicity pulled back her hand instead of taking it shaking her head.  “Oh no, I’ve had enough.  I don’t like rum.”  Nasty stuff.

The look Oliver gave her was both mischievous and determined.  He poured a long drought into his own mouth, then titled her head back again, spilling the warm rum directly from his mouth to Felicity’s, then chasing it with his tongue. 

And Felicity had to say, rum flavored Oliver wasn’t half bad. 

Actually, Oliver flavored anything was pretty damn intoxicating.

Felicity lost herself in his kiss, the warm slide of their tongues wrestling lazily for dominance.  She didn’t even realize that Oliver had put the bottle down until she felt two roughened hands slip under her tank-top, dragging it up.  His fingers moved up her sides and over her arms, before tossing the shirt carelessly aside. 

She wasn’t wearing a bra.  It was too damn hot for a bra. 

Oliver hummed appreciatively.  He lifted her off his lap, his mouth never leaving hers.  Felicity thought he was going to drag her off to bed, but, instead, he pulled her back, straddling him this time. 

The kiss turned messy, tongues and lips and teeth clashing, falling over cheeks and chins and cheeks.  It felt incredible and Felicity giggled again, no longer caring if she sounded silly as she snuck her hands under Oliver’s perspiration dampened t-shirt.

Felicity wasn’t really sure why he bothered to wear one sometimes, the way it clung like second skin.  She pulled it off, dropping it to the ground and running her hands over his muscled ridges.  ARGUS training created some truly beautiful specimens, but none so beautiful as her Oliver.

As soon as they were both free from clingy cotton, Oliver yanked her flush against his chest, so her breasts crushed between them, her nipples puckering and dragging against the sweat slicked skin.  

Oliver took control of the kiss, turning it into a more elegant, deep sensual kiss.  That was good too.

Felicity rolled her hips over his.  Her short jean cutoffs pulled tight against her sex, creating a delicious friction.  She could feel Oliver’s cock, hard and ready against her thigh through his cargo shorts and she pressed her leg against it, causing his fingers to flex, digging into her back as he groaned into her mouth.  

She wasn’t sure how long they went on like that, with lengthy, deep kisses and beautiful friction.  Long enough for Felicity’s cheeks to burn from Oliver’s stubble and for her to wonder if she would come from this alone.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

Felicity broke away with a gasp when his pelvic bone hit a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves, but Oliver’s lips didn’t leave her for a second.  When she turned her face, his lips dragged along her chin and cheek and laved warm, open-mouthed kisses down her throat.

Splaying his hand wide over her bare back, Oliver urged her to lean backward.  Then, cradling Felicity’s head gently with his other hand, he continued his track until his mouth captured one aching nipple.

Felicity whimpered and cried out at the sensation, her eyes closing as she let everything fall away, letting Oliver hold her and keep her safe while she focused all of her senses on the pull of his lips on her sensitive flesh and the heat of his tongue.  His talented,  _talented_  tongue, which was possibly the only thing on Earth that could calm and still her busy mind.

When Felicity felt herself being lifted, she went with it, following his lead.  Gladly.  Eagerly.  Oliver’s hands flexed on her ass as he stood.  She knew the drill and reflexively wrapped her legs tightly around his lean hips as he carried her over to their poor excuse for a bed.  A bed that there was a good possibility they would break tonight.  Wouldn’t be the first time.

Oliver laid her down gently, clearly intent on taking his time.  Felicity was only too happy to indulge his need to worship her.  It allowed her mind to quiet for a short time, something she desperately needed.  She stretched her arms above her head as his lips fell to her other breast giving it the same loving attention as the one in the chair. 

“Mmmm.” 

Felicity’s eyes slipped shut again as the warmth spread, only heightened by the heat in the air, as a line of intense pleasure shot directly from her nipple to her sex.  It had her hips bucking and Oliver pressed a large hand over her lower belly, just above Felicity’s low rising shorts, to keep her still.  It didn’t subdue her completely, but, then again, he didn’t seem to be trying very hard.

Oliver’s lips left her nipple and trailed down, nipping at the lower curve of her breast, running his tongue over the crease where it met her ribs.  Then he licked and kissed his way to her belly-button, circling it with his tongue, but never once dipping inside.  He knew well enough that she was too ticklish there and it would only result in him getting kicked.

His hands found her cutoffs, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping them as if they had all the time in the world, pulling them over Felicity’s hips and down her legs with agonizing leisure.  One of her hands found their way into Oliver’s thick sun-kissed hair, messaging his scalp with the same lazy rhythm her hips had found, slow and sensual.

Felicity’s only desire at that moment was to think of nothing but Oliver.  _Feel_ nothing but Oliver.

His tongue found Felicity’s folds and it was a desire easily achieved. In fact, it was impossible to think of anything else.  His fingers followed, two sliding deep, careful and deliberate as Oliver’s tongue traced the margins of the nubbin of flesh above. 

And then there was nothing but him.  Her wonderful, damaged, perfect Oliver, who had made her believe in love again after Felicity had given up, made her believe that men could be good, that they could  _stay_ , even after they’d been through hell themselves.

After her father left, after too many teenage asshats, after Cooper chose death over living with her, Felicity hadn’t believed she would ever trust another man again.  Not with her heart, anyway.  Her optimism just didn’t extend that far.

But Oliver…Oliver who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.  Yet, somehow, who always respected her wishes.  Who slowly, meticulously, broke down every barrier and defense she had and…she loved him. 

Felicity loved him more than she had ever thought possible.  More than she loved life itself.

By the time Oliver had built her up to a slow and perfect orgasm, Felicity was so filled with emotion that she thought she might shatter.  In more ways than one. 

She whimpered and tensed, calling, “Oliver,” so quietly she wasn’t even sure it was out loud, before her body became limp, melting into the bed.

Oliver pulled back, panting, his heavy-lidded eyes almost black.  He pressed one last loving kiss on her stomach before standing.  His penetrating blue gaze held hers as he finished stripping, his body beautiful in the fading sunlight.

The eye contact was intense, as it sometimes was for them.  Neither of them was people of shallow emotions.  But, for some reason, this time it felt… _more_.  It was humbling and terrifying to feel so connected with another person.

Then, suddenly, Felicity was consumed with dread.  She had this all-encompassing fear that this was the last time for them.

What if this was goodbye? 

Anything could happen tomorrow.  So much could go wrong.  They didn’t fully understand the forces they were dealing with.  Despite their best efforts, the team had no idea what the science behind the Mayan ’magic’ was, if there even was any.  All they knew was that it was powerful and that, somehow, Reiter knew how to harness it.

All they had were hieroglyphics and Felicity’s algorithms to guide them.  What if she were translating all wrong?  What if it was a trap?  What if Reiter got there first and was waiting for them, already armed with all the powers they were trying to keep from him?  That man was pure evil.  Felicity could feel it in her bones.

She couldn’t lose Oliver.  Felicity knew… _believed_  that he wouldn’t willingly leave her.  But he could be _taken_.  He could die.   _She_  could die.  They both could—

“Hey, hey, Felicity.  Look at me, Sunshine.  It’s okay.”

Felicity hadn’t even realized that she was crying until Oliver was right there, his face inches from hers, his thumbs gently wiping the tears from her face.  She tried to draw in a breath and it ended in a sob. 

“God.   _Felicity_.”  Oliver’s arms came around her and Felicity curled into him, her face buried in his chest, her fingers gripping his shoulders and arms.  Sobbing.

Oliver held her like that for long minutes, stroking her back and murmuring nonsense words into her hair, while Felicity cried humiliating tears.  She shouldn’t be breaking down like this. She didn’t have the luxury.  She was a trained agent for god’s sake. 

Finally, Oliver asked, his tone rough with emotion, “What’s wrong?  You can tell me anything.” There was a catch in his voice.  This wasn’t like her and they both knew it.

“I just…” Felicity didn’t even know, couldn’t begin to put it into words.  Or, maybe, she was just afraid to give her fears voice.  “I just love you so much.”

The sound that Oliver made against her ear sounded suspiciously like a sob as well.  “And I love  _you_.  _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …it’s going to be all right.  We’re going to be  _fine_.” 

She didn’t think they could get physically closer, but Felicity tried anyway, wrapping her calves around Oliver’s and curling her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders.

But Oliver pulled back, his smile shaky and forced, his eyes red rimmed as he smoothed the damp curls from Felicity’s face and wiped away the stray tears.  She must look a wreck.

“Hey, where’s my Sunshine?  Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be giving  _me_  the pep talk? Speechifying about how we can  _do_  this?  How together we can do anything?”

Felicity huffed a watery laugh.  The word ‘speechify,’ which was so her word and not Oliver’s, getting to her more than anything.  She tried to summon her usual positive attitude, the hope she was known for, but…she really didn’t know why she was so afraid this time.

“I love you,” Felicity repeated.  It was the only hopeful thing she could conjure.

“Always and forever,” Oliver whispered, a phrase he… _they_  used when feeling particularly sappy.  Or when things got exceptionally rough.

Felicity was going to start bawling again if she didn’t do something, so she kissed him, pulling Oliver’s lips back to hers with what must be an almost painful yank on his hair.  She poured everything she was feeling in that moment into her kiss.   The desperation.  The fear.  The fragile hope and the unwavering love and the gratitude and…

And Oliver kissed her back with equal feeling.  Felicity tasted tears and she really didn’t think they were only hers.  She felt the emotion flowing between them and, suddenly, she couldn’t stand not being connected to him in every way.

Reaching between them, Felicity guided him into her.  Oliver’s breath caught as he slid inside, a half-moan, half-sob escaping from his lips.  His mouth froze against hers for just a fragment of a second before he melted back into it the kiss.

Felicity wrapped her arms and legs further around him, eager, no  _obsessed_  with having as much contact as possible, ignoring the heat and humidity that had them dripping with sweat. 

Gently, they rocked together.  Felicity didn’t know if they had ever made love so… _tenderly_  before.  Everything about this night was different and she had to squeeze her eyes shut to silence that part of her brain that wanted to ruin everything by analyzing why.

They made love like that endlessly.  On and on.  Unhurried.  Sweet.  Tender.  And Felicity felt a desperate need to stay trapped in that moment for as long as humanly possible. 

But it couldn’t last forever, not really, and Oliver ultimately broke the kiss with a whimper, signally the beginning of the end. “Felicity,” Oliver breathed against her lips.  “Always, Felicity, always.”

Tears pricked again and Felicity pressed her eyes against Oliver’s neck, relishing the burn of the sweat as it helped her maintain some semblance of control. 

“I will love you forever,” Felicity was finally able to whisper back. 

Because she couldn’t promise Oliver that she would  _be_  with him forever.  Hell, she couldn’t promise that they would survive tomorrow, but she could promise that she would always  _love_  him.  Always and Forever.  More than her own life.  Until the end of time.

“Huh uh,  _Felicity_ …” Oliver’s voice hitched and he pressed his open mouth hard against her temple as his hips stuttered and lost their rhythm.

Felicity’s orgasm wasn’t an explosion.  It wasn’t a burst of intense pleasure, as it often…as it  _usually_  was.  It came on slow and seeped through her pores, permeating every cell of her body as Oliver flooded her.  She held on.  To every emotion.  Every sensation.  All of him.  As long as she could.

“Are you going to cry again?” Oliver teasingly whispered into her hair after long minutes had passed with only the sound of their breathing and the quiet hum of the ineffectual fan. 

Felicity let out soft laugh that may have ended with a sniffle.  “Maybe.”  Because it was all so beautiful and perhaps she was just a little overwhelmed.

Oliver rolled them onto their sides, pulling Felicity close and slipping a leg between hers, his hands stroking long soothing paths down her spine and back up again.

“We’re going to be okay,” he whispered in her ear.  “I know Reiter freaks you out—”

Felicity grunted.  If  _that_  wasn’t the understatement of the century.

“But…” Oliver squeezed her for emphasis, his voice firm.  “We’re taking him _down_ tomorrow.  One way or another.”

As if the ‘or another’ wasn’t terrifying enough…what if Oliver was wrong?  Felicity had never been so unsure of an outcome in her life.

“Hey,” Oliver murmured, pulling back to look Felicity in the eye.  “And we are both…no, we are  _all_  going to walk out of there.”  He dropped a kiss on her lips.  “Now, are you going to tell me why I’m giving  _your_  pre-mission speech?”

Felicity managed to laugh at that.  If it was her speech, then Oliver was certainly doing an amazing job making it his own.  “I don’t know.  I guess it’s like you said, Reiter gets under my skin for some reason.” 

Actually, the entire mission was  _more_  than getting under her skin.  It was filling her with dread.  And for one sudden, insane moment, Felicity had the urge to run.  To ask Oliver to take off with her.  To abandon the mission.  To not  _go_. 

But this was more important than  _them_.  Because, in the end, they were just two people and if Reiter got ahold of the Obsidian Scull than everyone,  _everywhere_  could be in danger.  If this went bad, the consequences had the potential to be global and would most definitely be catastrophic. 

Maybe that was why Felicity was so off.  There was a lot riding on them getting to the Skull first.  A lot depending on her translations and Oliver’s aim.  On her seven best friends. 

“We’re… _you’re_  going to be amazing.  We’re going to get there first because we’ve got you guiding us.  You’re our secret weapon,” Oliver insisted, in a tone so confident it was difficult to disagree. 

Except, Felicity did.  And,  _frack_ , did he have to put so much pressure on her?  Sometimes, Oliver’s blind faith was stifling.

“And after, we’re going on vacation.”

Now  _that_  made Felicity laugh.  For real this time.  “We get  _vacation_?”  She was teasing.  Just because they never  _took_  one, didn’t mean they didn’t  _get_  one.

Oliver rolled onto his back, bringing Felicity with him to drape her across his torso and rest her head on his shoulder.  With the size of this bed, if they weren’t practically on top of each other, one of them was going to fall off.  It was the best thing about it.

“Do you know where I want to go when this is all over?”

“Disney World?” Felicity joked, attempting something resembling lightness.  She felt like she should at least try.

Oliver’s face broke out in a delighted grin so it was worth it.  “Do  _you_?”

Felicity shrugged, actually smiling.  “Who doesn’t love a giant mouse.  Though, I have a feeling the ‘thrill’ rides would be a little anti-climactic after everything we’ve done.”

Oliver chuckled, turning his eyes back to the ceiling and folding the arm not wrapped around her under his head.  His smile faded as he became contemplative.  “I think I’d like to visit Starling.”

Oh.  Okay.  That was, maybe, the  _last_  thing Felicity expected him to say.  Pushing herself up on her elbow, she tried to meet his eyes, but Oliver had suddenly found the stain on the ceiling rather fascinating. 

“You’re finally ready to tell your mom and sister you’re alive?” Felicity asked, certain the shock was evident in her voice.

Oliver squeeze his eyes tightly shut and she could see his muscles stiffen.  “I figured after we take down Reiter…”

He didn’t have to finish.  This was one sentence Felicity could easily complete for him.  After Reiter, Oliver thought he might actually feel worthy again, feel redeemed for everything he’d had to do to survive during those two years on Lian Yu and even after with ARGUS. 

This wasn’t a pretty job.  Felicity knew she was lucky.  Her tech specialty meant she rarely had to take a life, except in the most extreme circumstances.  Special Ops, on the other hand…

“You don’t have to take down Reiter to be worthy, Oliver,” Felicity whispered, lightly stroking his chest.  “You are a  _good_  man.  A hero.  One your family will be proud of.”  And if they weren’t…well, Felicity had a couple choice words for them.

Oliver swallowed, his eyes cracking open to look at her.  His smile started small and then bloomed across his face.  He grabbed Felicity’s hand and entwined their fingers over his chest.  “They’re going to love you.”

Oh

 _Crap_.

As happy as she was about Oliver deciding to reach out to his family (she knew how much he missed them and being ‘dead’ was a burden he didn’t need) Felicity hadn’t really thought about the whole the going  _with_  him part.  The part where she met his incredibly wealthy and sophisticated mother and sister as they reeled from the shock of their son and brother coming back from the dead.

Felicity was afraid the laugh that escaped right then was more hysterical than not.  Great, now she had  _another_  thing to worry about. 

“Riiight…I’m sure Moira Queen will be  _thrilled_  when you return with a skinny blood nerd from Vegas and not at all blame her for stealing her son and keeping him to herself for the last three years and think she is far too young for him and—”

“You are only four years younger than me and ten times more mature,” Oliver argued, in the tone of someone repeating himself for the hundredth time.  Which may have been accurate.  “My mother will adore the  _brilliant_  woman who saved her son’s soul—”

That burn behind Felicity’s eyes was back.  “ _Oliver_ —”

“And who her son intends to marry.”

Felicity’s stomach did a very distinct somersault.  “Oliver…?”

Biting his lip, Oliver found that spot on the ceiling again.  “You know that I envy Ronnie and Cait, right?”

Swallowing, Felicity shook her head, feeling thrown and unsure.  They may have discussed  _forever_ , but never marriage.  “I didn’t know, actually.”

Oliver brought Felicity’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her palm.  “Well, I do.”

More summersaults.  That couldn’t be a good combination with the rum.  If Oliver proposed the night before a potentially fatal mission, this  _particular_  mission, Felicity was going to freak the frak out.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Oliver?” Felicity asked and it was one of the braver things she had done in her life.

Shrugging again, Oliver still wouldn’t meet her gaze.  “Only that there is a ring in the vault back home that would look spectacular on you.”  And, this time when he went to kiss Felicity’s hand, he very clearly lingered on her ring finger. 

Felicity released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.  Well, at least, Oliver wasn’t asking  _now_.  She supposed she could handle a heads up that it was coming.  A heads up was probably a good thing, actually.

Marriage wasn’t something that Felicity had thought much about.  Watching how her mother coped with her father leaving…well, the idea of marriage, maybe, kinda…  _petrified_  her. 

But Felicity had already promised Oliver always and forever.  Something she meant with her whole heart.  What difference did a piece of paper and a bit of bling make? 

Then she realized Oliver was waiting for her to say something. “I think I’d like to meet your sister,” Felicity offered, not ready to head-on address the other yet.

Oliver smiled at the stain above him.  “Yeah, I bet she grew up pretty cool.”  There was a wistfulness in his voice that had Felicity pressing soft kisses against his shoulder. 

“I’m moving into your room when we get back to base.”

“ _What_?! Oliver—”

“I’m done hiding.”  Oliver’s tone was hard and left very little room for argument.

But that had never stopped Felicity before.  “Oliver, ARGUS—”

“ _Fuck_  ARGUS.”

Felicity grunted her frustration, then practically whined, “They’ll separate us.” 

ARGUS didn’t prohibit relationships.  They couldn’t, really.  But they could, and did, prohibit them from being on the same team.  And breaking up the team was  _unthinkable_.  It was what had all of them sneaking into each other’s rooms in the hazy half-light.

“Then we’ll quit.”  Oliver said it as if it were that easy. 

It wasn’t though.  “You don’t mean that.”  What would they do with ARGUS?  It was their lives.

“I do,” Oliver insisted and, frighteningly, Felicity was starting to believe him.  “If they can’t see that we work better together than apart, after  _two years_  of being together and on the same team, well, then _fuck them_.  I quit.  I’m done pretending.  And I’m not doing this without you.”

It was humbling, and sometimes terrifying, how much weight Oliver put on their relationship.  “Do I have a say in this?” Felicity asked gently, more as a reminder, because she knew she did.  He wouldn’t do anything unless it was what she wanted as well. 

“Yes.”  Oliver turned his puppy-dog eyes on her and Felicity sighed.  She didn’t know a woman on this planet who could resist them.

Well, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t tired of sneaking around as well.  But ARGUS, the team…it was a lot to risk.  This team was the first place Felicity had ever felt like she belonged.  “What would we even do with ourselves without ARGUS?”

“Felicity, you’re brilliant.  You could do  _anything_.  You could work for my parent’s company.  Hell, you could  _run_  my family’s company.  You could run your  _own_  company.  You could—”

“Okay.  Okay.  I get the picture,” Felicity chuckled, but as much as Oliver’s words warmed her, she didn’t even know if ARGUS would  _let_  her leave, what with the deal that brought her on board in the first place.  “What about you?  You were  _born_  for Special Ops?”

Oliver just raised an eyebrow at her. 

“I’m serious.”  Sometimes Felicity didn’t think Oliver thought things through.  “Are you going to be a cop?”  Seeing him shudder she pressed on, “Go into Private Security?  Teach archery lessons?”

“The last doesn’t sound half bad.”

Dear god, he was  _serious_!  Felicity slapped his chest, earning an, “Ow!”  Though, they both knew it barely stung.

“This isn’t a joke, Oliver.”

“I’m not joking.”  And god help them, it was becoming clear he wasn’t.  “Felicity, I love being SO.  I’m good at it.  Better than I’ve ever been at anything, actually.  But, mostly, I love our team and I love  _you_.  If Waller tries to take either, I’ll walk away and never look back.”  Then Oliver’s face softened.  Oh god, not the puppy-dog eyes again.  “That is, if you’ll come with me?”

Instead of answering, Felicity squeezed her eyes shut and moaned.  Why was Oliver making her think about this  _tonight_  of all nights?  “You didn’t answer me about what you’d do,” she finally whispered.

“My family has money.” Which was quite the understatement, Felicity knew. “I’ll be a man of leisure.”

Felicity’s eyes popped open and she scoffed.

But Oliver just squeezed her waist and smirked.  “I could be a House Husband.”

Felicity  _had_  to laugh at that, because while it did have a certain appeal, it was a very amusing image.  “You’d be bored to death.”

Oliver’s smile faded and his eyes became solemn.  “Not if I have a half-dozen kids to watch over,” he whispered.

She just blinked at him.  “You’re serious.”  Wow.  Okay.  Felicity was kind of in awe and also… she didn’t even know what else.

Oliver bit his lip and took a sudden interest in twirling what was left of her braid around his finger.  “Remember San Paulo?”

Felicity nodded.  How could she forget?  A few months back, they had helped evacuate an orphanage on the outskirts of the city after a major Shadowspire attack.  It had been pretty horrible.  The slums.  The fallout.

“Remember that little girl?”

“Maria?” 

Oliver nodded.  The parentless toddler had taken quite a shine to Oliver and, why not, he’d been incredibly kind and patient with her.  With all the kids.  Maria had clung to Oliver like a limpet for three days.  And when they had to leave, well, it was best not to think about that when Felicity was so emotionally raw.  Suffice it to say, it had been ugly.

But, somehow, Oliver managed to smile when thinking about the child.  “I never thought much about having kids… _before_.  But I think…I think, maybe, I could be a good dad.”

Well, so much for keeping the tears at bay.  “The best,” Felicity whispered, her voice rough.  Though, conversely her chest was filling with warmth, with pride.

Oliver flashed her a grateful smile.  “Well, at least, I think I could be better than my dad.  Or yours.”

“Pfft.  Let’s  _not_  set the bar so low, shall we.”

Chuckling, Oliver turned more completely toward her, looking more relaxed and, well,  _happy_.  “You’ll be the most incredible mom.”

Felicity choked, ‘cause pretty sure Oliver was the first person to think so.  The only things she knew how to take care of ran on some form of electricity.  “You do remember I’m only 22?  Like  _barely_  22, old man.”

“I’m not saying right away,” Oliver protested, not losing his lazy smile.  But then, he bit his lip and his gaze slipped from hers.  “Not that I would mind that either.”  His hand wandered from her hip to her stomach, resting there and Felicity’s breath caught.

Yeah.  Wow.  Not where she thought this night was going to go.  Swallowing, Felicity confessed, “I had no idea having kids meant that much to you.”

Oliver smiled a wistful half-smile.  “Neither did I.  My father used to go on and on about the Queen Legacy and it just made me…annoyed, you know?  I always thought that if he cared so much about the family name he should have had more children and not put it all on me.  But after San Paulo and working around all this centuries old crap—”

“Only you would see a thousand years of Mayan history as ‘crap’.”  Felicity rolled her eyes.  This ‘crap’ had practically been her life this past year.

“But that’s the thing, Felicity.  I always would have, but… _now_ , looking at the dynasties carved in stone.  We kinda have some of that in the Queen family…not millennia, but  _centuries_  of history.  I know it sounds strange, but, suddenly, building a Legacy of my own, with  _you_ , it sounds kinda good.”

It sounded  _kinda_  terrifying.  Mixing her low brow genes with those of metaphorical American Royalty.  Though, Felicity could lend some IQ points to the line, at the very least.  “I don’t know if I’d want to raise them amongst all that hoity-toity stuff.  I’d want them more down to Earth—”

Oliver cut Felicity off with a hard kiss.  When he pulled away he was beaming.  “I told you’d be the best mom.”

Felicity grinned.  She could  _not_  believe she was having this conversation.  “I’m  _sure_  Moira Queen would agree,” she drawled sarcastically.

“Felicity, I love my mother.  But we are not taking parenting advice from her.”

She laughed and Oliver flipped back onto his side and yanked her to him so they were flush again, nose to nose. 

“But  _imagine_  it.  In another couple years, I’ll retire.  You can work in the Cave, doing R&D.  Or retire too.  Whatever you want.  We’ll buy a house, a  _moderately_  sized house, in a nice normal neighborhood, and have our own little baseball team.”

“Uh…how many kids make up a baseball team exactly?”

“The number is negotiable,” Oliver brushed off, clearly  _very_  excited now.  Felicity had never seen his eyes so alive.  “Except, I want more than one.  One’s lonely.  It was better after Thea was born.”

Felicity’s throat closed up.  “Yeah.  Yeah, one  _is_  lonely.”

With one more beaming smile, Oliver’s lips closed over hers.  And, this time, Felicity could taste his hope.  His excitement and happiness. 

Felicity could see it too, now.  Oliver happy and relaxed, surrounded by gorgeous blue-eyed children, climbing on him, clamoring for his attention.  She could even see a little bespectacled toe-headed angel on her lap, diligently plucking away at a tablet.

Nothing had ever seemed  _less_  lonely.  For someone who had grown up so entirely by herself, it was incredibly seductive.

“Okay,” Felicity whispered when she broke away, breathless.  And she really didn’t think it had anything to do with the kiss.

If it was possible for Oliver’s eyes to light up more, they did.  “Okay to…?”

Okay to all of it.  

But Felicity wasn’t quite ready to admit to that yet, even though the idea was worming its way into her heart and mind, taking root at a frightening speed.  Instead, she said, “Okay to moving into my room and telling Waller she separates us over our dead bodies.  The rest we’ll talk about after.”

Oliver beamed.  “I’ll take it.”  He pulled Felicity into a tight hug.  “You won’t regret it.  I promise.”

But promises were so hard to keep in their line of work and Felicity was really starting to regret her phrasing, because ‘over our dead bodies’ was now on repeat in her head, giving her chills in the suffocating heat.  And the anxiety was creeping up again as she had something almost approaching a premonition of doom. 

 _If_  Felicity believed in such things. 

Which she didn’t.  Nope.  Not a bit.  Foolish stuff. 

Suddenly, Oliver’s dream of a house and a ring and a half-dozen children felt impossible.  And, just as suddenly, Felicity had never wanted anything more.  She wanted it with a burning passion.

Oliver pulled out of her arms and Felicity had to clench her hands into tight fists to keep from clinging to him desperately.  “Where are you going?”

But Oliver was already at the small table, grabbing the bottle of rum and turning to her, gloriously naked, with a brilliant smile on his face.  He was celebrating and she was panicking.

“This stuff was expensive and night is young.”

Felicity pushed away her dark thoughts.  She was done lingering on fear.  Premonition of doom?  Pfft!  How ridiculous was that?  She’d spent way too much time researching ancient Mayan mumbo jumbo.  That was all it was.  Too many old stories messing with her head.  Oliver was right. 

Everything was going to be  _fine_. Felicity wasn’t going to let any more nonsense ruin their night. 

Felicity opened her arms to the man she loved and Oliver was back in two long strides, pushing her down playfully and smirking as he poured rum into her navel.

It looked like Oliver had body shots in mind after all.  If that couldn’t distract her, Felicity didn’t know what could.

 

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

 _June 7, 2011_  
_13:03_  
_ARGUS Base_  
_Undisclosed location_

 

Felicity woke up to pain. 

Pain _everywhere_.  Not one sharp pain.  No, lots and lots of sharp pains.  The worst of which was down low in her belly.  Her whole body ached, felt dulled, and Felicity recognized the unmistakable feeling of pain medication wearing off.  She had the distinct impression that if she gave it a few minutes the pain would take her breath away.

Her mouth was dry.  The lights were too bright, the walls a dull grey.  Felicity would have recognized the ARGUS Medical Bay anywhere.

Blinking open her dry eyes, Felicity let them focus on the white-coated figure next to her.  “Shado?” She breathed and her voice was horse.  Not a good sign.  Rough voices and Medical Bays usually equaled recent extubations.

“Felicity.  Welcome back to the world of the living,” her friend (and doctor apparently) greeted with a small, tired smile.

Swallowing, Felicity tried to clear her scratchy throat and reached to raise the hospital bed.  What did it say that she could find it without looking?  “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” At Shado’s gentle words dozens…hundreds of images assailed her. 

They had arrived to bright blue skies, white limestone, and green grass, but soon…the darkness below was overwhelming.  Like the sun was shut out.   Deep underground with the narrow stone passages and the rows and rows of hieroglyphics.  The Skull…the bright shining black obsidian, so dark and so bright at the same time.  The hessonite eyes that came alive when Reiter…

God!  _Reiter_.  A swarm of Shadowspire soldiers.  With guns and the…the limestone shaking from the impact of bullets…falling…crumbling…the fear they would all be buried alive.  The red lightning and…bodies. 

Blood.  Bullets.   _Oliver_.  People flying.  Her people.  Sharp, blinding pain.  Overwhelming darkness.

This was the stuff nightmares were made of.  Felicity almost laughed hysterically, because surely this  _would_  be what her nightmares would be made of.  For years to come.

Felicity wanted to say that the mission had gone terribly wrong, but for a mission like this…it was just a mission.  Casualties were expected.  Though, if she had been faster with the translations…

If she hadn’t messed up that one symbol… 

If she had gotten them to the chamber sooner…

“Reiter?” Felicity asked, being the good agent.  Because as far as the mission was concerned that was the most important thing.  It was also the least terrifying of the questions swimming through her brain.

“Dead,” Shado answered, in a dull, matter-of-fact tone.  “The Skull is gone.  Smashed.  The only things left are the Hessonite eyes and they’re in ARGUS custody. The mission was a success.  Waller is thrilled.”   

Of course, she was.  It probably didn’t even phase Waller that she had agents lying in the hospital wing with a surgeon standing over them. 

Dear god, she hurt.  Felicity should probably ask for more pain meds, but she needed to think clearly for a few more minutes.  Not that it was easy to think with the rising pain. 

“You don’t sound like it’s time to celebrate.  What’s the damage?”  Saying it out loud caused her brain to catch up and Felicity looked around the room, panic escalating.  “Where Oliver?”  If he were alright, he would be there.  _Fuck_. 

Shado laid a hand on Felicity’s shoulder.  “Relax.  Oliver is fine.  In fact, he had the least damage of anyone, certainly less than  _you_.  Thanks to the bullet you took for him.  He’s pretty pissed about that, by the way.”

“I’ll bet.”  Felicity licked her dry lips and Shado handed her a cup of water with a straw.  After taking a sip, Felicity asked the question she’d been half-dreading.  “Then where is he?”

“Oliver’s been a little…let’s say… _insane_  over your condition.”  For the first time, Shado’s eyes lit up with amusement.  “We had to sedate him.  He’s sleeping it off.”

Felicity nodded.  It caused agony to shoot through her skull, though, so she stopped.  “And the rest of the team?” she asked, taking measured breaths trying to control the pain.

Shado’s face hardened and that dread Felicity had been feeling since the night before the mission resurfaced with a vengeance.  The physical pain faded into the background as fear mounted.

“Maybe we should wait until Oliver—”

“Just  _tell me_ , Shado.”  Because that meant it was bad and there was no way Felicity was going to just sit here and worry, while she waited god knows how long for Oliver to wake up.  She honestly couldn’t think of anything worse. 

“Felicity, Oliver would—”

“Since when do we need a man to hold our hand for bad news, Shado?”  Felicity pulled the feminist card.  That’s right, she did. Not only because it was true, but because it was a language Shado understood.

The young surgeon sighed, frowning as she looked Felicity over.

“It’s  _my_  team.  I  _need_  to know,” Felicity pleaded, praying… _god_ , she didn’t even know what to pray for.  Because if they were all okay she’d know by now.

Clenching her jaw, Shado nodded.  “Slade lost an eye.”  She said it dispassionately.  As if it wasn’t her lover she was talking about.  As if these people hadn’t become her family too.  “John took a bullet to the thigh, but he’d recovering well.  Sara’s still in surgery.  They’re hopeful…”

But it was the way Shado trailed off that really made Felicity nauseous.  “And…?”

“We lost Ronnie.”

“Oh  _god_.”

The news slammed into her, Felicity’s head fell back as tears squeezed out of her tightly shut eyelids.  She would never admit it, but in that moment, she wished Oliver was there to hold her hand.  No wonder he went so crazy that he had to be sedated.  No wonder.  Ronnie.  Bright, cocky, full-of life Ronnie. 

If Felicity had translated faster, better...would he be here now?  Holding his new wife’s hand?

“Caitlin?” Felicity whispered, barely able to get the name out.  Oh god,  _Caitlin_.  How could she even begin…?

“Taking it about as well as expected.”

Which meant not good.  Not good at all.

“Did you sedate her too?” Felicity croaked, wishing she had been there for her friend and not…wherever she had been.  Surgery for that bullet to the gut, she supposed, judging by Shado’s presence.  And the building pain. 

Shado gave a single nod and Felicity closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to take it all in, trying to  _not_  freak out.  Maybe the pain wasn’t so bad.  It was something else to focus on.  But when she opened her eyes again, Shado was looking at her like…

“There’s more,” Felicity murmured, suddenly terrified. 

Shado’s frown deepened.

“Who else?”  Felicity quickly ran through the team in her head.  “Lyla?”

“A mild concussion.  Nothing serious.”

“Then what _is_ it?  There’s more, I can tell.  There’s something you don’t want to tell me.”  What could be worse than losing Ronnie?  Shado said Oliver was fine.  She wouldn’t lie about that.

Shado’s face shut down.  “I think you should wait for Oliver.”

What could be so bad that Felicity needed to wait for Oliver?  She barely registered that, apparently, they were done pretending that they were all in relationship with each other.  “Do I need to repeat my speech about not needing a man—?”

“Felicity, sometimes a  _person_  needs their  _partner_ ,” Shado insisted.

Felicity almost freaked the fuck out  _that_  sounded so damn ominous.  “And I will have Oliver,  _when he wakes up_.  But you need to tell me  _now_ , Shado.  Don’t leave me here imagining worst case scenarios.”  Pain made her short tempered on top of it all. 

Maybe  _that_  was what Shado was hiding.  Maybe Felicity wasn't going to get better.  Maybe that was why Oliver had needed to be sedated.

Shado sighed and sat on the bed, taking Felicity’s hand.  Oh god, this was  _bad_.  She fought back tears. 

“Felicity, the bullet you took to the abdomen did extensive damage.”

So, it  _was_  her then that the bad news was about.  But that was okay.  Felicity could handle that.  She thought.  How bad could it be?  She couldn’t be  _dying_ , could she?  “Okay…”

Sighing, Shado drew herself up.  “We had to do a total hysterectomy.  We were able to save one ovary, so you won’t have to be on hormones your entire life…”

Shado kept speaking, but all Felicity heard was the roaring in her ears.  Her vision blurred and the world went wonkly for a minute.  She felt like she was outside of her body.  She didn’t understand.

“Wait.  What?’

“Felicity, we had to remove your uterus.  There was too much damage.” 

Shado’s voice was sad, compassionate, but all Felicity could think was…she was 22 years-old.  She was only  _22_  and so many choices had already been taken from her.  And now…

There were supposed to be beautiful blue-eyed rascals climbing all over Oliver.  Toe-headed little geniuses sitting on her lap.   But…but…

“So I’ll never…” Felicity’s voice faded out.   It took her a full minute to find it again.  “I can’t ever have children?”

“You’ll never carry a child, no.”

The monitors started to go crazy, but Felicity didn’t realize that she had started to hyperventilate until Shado placed an oxygen mask on her face.

In 22 years, Felicity had never had more than a passing thought for having children and just as Oliver made her realize how desperately she wanted them, wanted them with  _him_ …the dream was gone.  Taken away.  Forever.

Felicity would appreciate the irony if she didn’t feel eviscerated.  Oh god, in a way, she quite literally had been.  Eviscerated.  What a word.   If she could breathe, she’d laugh.

Really, Felicity didn’t understand why it hurt so much.  It wasn’t like she had lost an  _actual_  baby, just a… _potential_  baby.  How had it taken only one night for her to want something so desperately?  Why did it feel like someone had murdered those beautiful blue-eyes babies?  Murdered happiness.

Shado shook her head, clearly angry at herself.  “I knew I should have waited for Oliver.”

But Felicity didn’t want those babies as desperately as Oliver did.  He wanted more than  _a child_.  He’d dreamt of a Legacy. 

“No.”

Felicity couldn’t take his dreams from him.  She couldn’t.

Shado froze, looking up.  “What?”

Felicity grabbed the oxygen mask and pulled it off, enunciating carefully.  “No.  You are _not_ going to tell Oliver anything.”

Shado looked confused.  Thrown.  It was a strange look for her.  “I don’t understand.  Felicity—”

“You’re my doctor, right?  You’re bound by doctor-patient confidentiality?  So, if I tell you not to tell anyone, _especially_ Oliver…?”

“I can’t,” Shado breathed, catching on.  “But, Felicity.  This is a  _terrible_  idea.”

Felicity shook her head, tears falling in a steady stream now.  As she cried for herself.  For Oliver.  For Ronnie and Caitlyn.  So many dreams that would never be.  For those blue-eyed babies.  So much had been destroyed.   _Everything_  had been destroyed.  For Caitlin.  For Felicity.  Everything. 

But, maybe not for all of them.  Three of them had lost their happy ending, but maybe one of them could find another.  Maybe that could be the last thing Felicity could give him. 

She had known something terrible was going to happen.  Felicity had just  _known_  it.  That final night with Oliver had felt like a goodbye and now she knew why.

“Felicity, can I—”

“I’d like to be alone,” Felicity whispered.

There was a long beat of silence, where Felicity refused to look at her friend.  Refused to do anything but lay there, staring straight ahead.

Finally, Shado stood.  “What do you want me to tell Oliver?  The team?”

“That I want to be alone.”  Felicity’s voice sounded strangely flat, even to her own ears.  She forced herself to roll away, cringing as the agony that lanced through her.  She closed her eyes, shutting out the world, ignoring Shado’s final arguments, her pleas to change her mind.  The pain made it easy.  So, so much pain. 

Felicity barely heard her anyway.  It sounded like Shado was speaking to her from under water.  This must be what it felt like when the world fell apart.

She was alone.  Again.

Oliver had said he wouldn’t stay in ARGUS without Felicity, so if he didn’t have her, he could go home.  He could still have his beautiful future back home with his family.  He would hurt.  Of course, he would hurt.  But he would find someone new to give him those babies.  It shouldn’t be hard.  He was rather irresistible.

Felicity loved Oliver too much to be the one who kept him from the future he deserved. 

She knew what he’d say if he were there.  Oliver would be devastated, but he would stay strong.  For her.  He’d say it was all okay.  That he loved her, wanted  _her_.  Maybe, he’d even say that he didn’t need a child of his own.  Maybe he’d suggest they go back to San Paulo and adopt that little girl.

But if Felicity allowed it, allowed him to sacrifice his dreams to be with her, then Oliver would never have a child of his own.  The Legacy of the Queen line would die with him.  Because of her.

And, eventually, Oliver would resent her.  Maybe even leave her.  Just like her father left.  Felicity had always known, hadn’t she?  They all left eventually.  She was never meant to have anyone stay.   She wasn’t the happy ending type.

At some point, Shado must have given up and left, but Felicity couldn’t have said when.  Shortly after, a nurse came in and offered more pain meds, which Felicity gladly,  _gratefully_  accepted.

As she drifted off into a drug induced stupor, Felicity knew what she had to do.  She loved Oliver more than her own life.  She had to sacrifice her happiness for his.

 

 

(More photographs and art for this chapter **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/166437342955/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-the-prologue)** )


	2. Chapter 1: The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for an angsty ride. This is novel-length story entirely from Felicity’s pov, dealing with infertility, trauma, loss, and severe anxiety. Grab a box of tissues (and a glass of wine if that’s your thing) and hold on tight. I hope you enjoy the ride.
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found  [**here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)
> 
>  

_September 14, 2016_  
_11:23_  
_The Cave: ARGUS Base_  
_Undisclosed location, USA_

 

Felicity walked at her usual brisk pace, her heels clicking down the hallways of the only place on earth where she felt comfortable, ARGUS’ top secret Research and Development, Technology and Science Department.  They tried to name it RDTSD, but that was just lame, and really award to say, so mostly the agents just called it The Cave.

It was both an affectionate and a derogatory nickname depending on the person using it.  The Cave was located under a half of mile of rock, literally underground, though anyone who had ever been inside would attest to it being nothing but the height of futuristic Teched-Out décor. 

But those who loved it there, those who called it home, called it the Cave because that’s where they hid, making their magic, rarely seeing the glow of actual sunlight.  And that was the way they liked it.

This hole in the ground was exactly what Felicity had needed during the worst period of her life.  She loved the Cave and in the five years since she had requested a transfer here, she could count the number of times she had left the facility on both hands.  

Felicity did have a small apartment that she shared with Caitlin.  She was rarely there, though, being the workaholic that she was.  Actually, it was probably fair to say that she had absolutely zero life outside of work.  She even had a cot in the lab that she slept in more often than not. She didn’t even feel guilty about it, since Caitlin was usually in the cot next to hers.

Why would either woman want to leave?  They were surrounded by brilliant people, all of whom had devoted their lives to making the world a better place.  The work was exhilarating.  Important.  _Safe._  

And, most importantly, it was enough to keep Felicity’s mind constantly busy.  Day and night.  A bored mind wandered and that was never good.

“Felicity!”

Her eyes lifted from the tablet that she was perusing as she walked down the hallway.  Yes, it was a little like distracted driving, but most of the inhabitants of the Cave knew by now to watch out for her.  Felicity hadn’t had a collision in months.

Barry Allen, her forensic expert, was walking toward her at a dizzying speed.  He stopped right in front of her and started walking backwards, matching her pace easily and smiling his usual excited smile. 

“I got the forensics back on the Zolomon case.  I found this really interesting…”

Felicity listened to Barry rattle off his findings from the latest case he was working on.  It required concentration as Barry was the only person she had ever met who could talk faster than she could.  It was only one of the projects her team was working on and, unfortunately, at the moment, not the most important one.  At least not according to Amanda Waller.   

“Great,” Felicity was finally able to insert, jumping in to take advantage of Barry’s fundamental need to breathe. “I need to talk to Curtis about those Communicators Waller has been on my ass about, but I can stop by your lab to go over  _everything_ …” She waved her hand expansively, and a little distractedly.  “This afternoon?”

“Awesome.  We’ll do lunch,” Barry was already out-pacing her, increasing the distance between them.  “Because even though I know it will be way past lunchtime, we  _both_  know that you won’t have eaten yet.”

“Barry...” Felicity admonished, chuckling.  He was right, of course, but it was still annoying. Sometimes, her team seemed think she needed a nursemaid.  They forgot she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.  Most days.

He was almost gone now, jogging backward in his tennis shoes, his long lab coat flapping behind him.  Why did Felicity wear heels to work, again?  “Chicken Cobb?” Barry called out before he disappeared into his hallway, not bothering to wait for an answer.  “I’ll have it waiting for you.”

Felicity shook her head.  Wind up in Medical  _one time_ for forgetting to eat…ah well, the team meant well.  Actually, they were the best thing about this life.  And she did love the cafeteria’s Chicken Cobb Salad.

She had come here to hide five years ago, broken in more ways than one, with a plan to bury herself in Tech, away from people, in the company of nothing but computers, but, somehow, Felicity had worked her way up to head of the best (if she did say so herself) science team in ARGUS.  A group of equally brilliant, passionate, and quirky individuals. 

While management wasn’t something Felicity would have ever thought she excelled at, it turned out brilliant scientist types only listened to one of their own, and, even then, only rarely.  If one wasn’t their intellectual equal…well, they’d eat you alive.  There had been an entertaining number of failures before the team ‘nominated’ Felicity as their leader.

Turning toward the massive Tech lab she shared with her two engineering gurus, Cisco Ramon and Curtis Holt, Felicity made her way to Curtis’ section.  The two men worked well together and were great friends, but their rivalry for ‘Best Inventor’ in ARGUS was intense.  And resulted in some truly amazing Technology.  Felicity loved it.

Of course, Curtis’ latest stroke of genius had a tendency to blow up at inopportune times, _so_ they were going to have to put their heads together on this one.  Maybe even bring in Cisco, which Curtis was not going to be happy about.

Felicity spotted the tall genius straight away, energy practically radiating off of him.  He was talking to someone who was sitting just out of Felicity’s field of vision, but she could tell that whoever Curtis was talking to had him  _on fire_.  Which, most likely, meant he was talking about a new piece of tech.   

Curtis’ hands were moving enthusiastically as he talked a mile-a-minute, a huge smile swallowing up his face.  No one talked or moved slow in their little corner of the Cave.  As she stepped further into the lab, he noticed her presence and turned the full power of his hundred-watt grin on her.  “Felicity, you have a visitor.”

But then, the visitor came into view as well and the bottom dropped out of Felicity’s stomach…hell, out of her whole fracking world. 

Felicity looked at John Diggle and the confident, calm ARGUS Scientist disappeared, leaving a green agent stuck in a hell she wasn’t equipped to deal with.

It all came back at her in a rush. 

In a series of excruciating flashes. 

John welcoming Felicity onto their field team.  The team in danger.  Oliver.  Tikal.  Reiter.  The Obsidian Skull.  John being shot.  Slade being hit with red lightning.  Ronnie.  The bullet hitting her…

Taking a deep breath, Felicity struggled to remember the breathing exercises she had learned back when the flashbacks were a regular occurrence.  She schooled her features to be carefully blank as she forced herself to repeat mundane code in her mind until the images finally faded. 

The therapist she had been asked to see after Guatemala had taught her some helpful techniques.  Felicity had liked her.  Until the good doctor had suggested it might be time for her to re-enter the world of the living and Felicity had dropped her like a hot potato.  The Cave was the only ‘living’ she was interested in.

“John. How nice to see you,” Felicity lied as soon as she could trust her voice, praying her little internal freak-out hadn’t been long enough for either man to pick up on it.

Felicity straightened her glasses and pulled on her blazer.  Now she remembered why she wore heels.  The heels, the glasses, the pencil skirts and the perfectly smooth ponytail.  The fitted jacket.  This was her camouflage. What set her clearly apart from Field Agent Smoak.  This was her nerd armor.  And, in that moment, it gave her the strength to hold out a hand to John.

But Digg ignored it, instead pulling her into his arms like a long-lost sister.  “Felicity,” he breathed, “it has been  _far_  too long.”

Felicity couldn’t agree.  In fact, right then, she was wishing that she didn’t have to face him at all.  But, even so, her body instinctively melted into John’s warm embrace and tears burned her eyes.  This man had been the older brother she’d never had.  The truest father figure in her life. 

Once upon a time.

But that was over now.  Felicity cleared her throat and managed to pull away before she became a weeping, pathetic mess.   _Or_  before they realized that inside she was  _always_  one step away from that weeping, pathetic mess. 

“John, what brings you down to our Geek Sanctuary?” Felicity asked, amazed that she was able to keep her voice even.  “Do you need something from my team?”

Digg’s small smile and intense look made her wary.  “Actually…?” John gestured toward Felicity’s office at the far side of the lab.

“Of course,” Felicity answered graciously.  She had gotten exceptionally good at hiding behind professionalism.  Mostly.  Well, _sometimes_.  Not with her closest friends.  But John wasn’t one of her closest friends, was he?  Not anymore. 

Turning away to lead John into her office gave Felicity a chance to take a deep breath in through her nose and out her mouth, counting backwards from ten.  In four different languages.  Including binary.  By the time she got to her desk, she almost felt like she was in control.  Almost.

“So is your visit to our lair for business or pleasure, John?”  Felicity even managed a smile, though she was secretly praying it wasn’t for pleasure.  The only thing she did for pleasure now-a-days was a monthly Doctor Who drinking game with her teammates and she’d like to keep it that way.

“If I would have known I was welcome for pleasure, I’d have come a long time ago,” John replied, the same unnerving intensity in his gaze.

Felicity blushed.  The way she had treated her former teammates after Tikal had been atrocious and would always be one of her deepest regrets.  She couldn’t quite look John in the eye as she told him softly, “You’re always welcome here.” Maybe she even meant it.  She was already regretting her unkind thoughts of wishing he hadn’t come. 

She forced herself to look at him, because even though she  _was_  one, Felicity hated being a coward and her former mentor deserved at least that much.  Digg leaned his hip against one of her armchairs, crossing his arms and taking her in almost sadly.  Felicity somehow doubted she was fooling him in any way.  How pathetic she must seem.

“It’s been a long time,” John finally said.  “I’ve missed you.”

Felicity was again fighting tears as she moved to half-sit against her desk, reminding herself to breathe.  “Yeah.  Yeah, me too.”  And it wasn’t even a lie.  She may have wished she would never have to face any of them ever again, but that didn’t mean she didn’t _miss_ them.  Every time she allowed herself to think, to remember…the _missing_ was excruciating.  Which was why she didn’t allow herself to think.  “Five years.” 

Five years.  Three months.  Ten days.  Her brain wouldn’t stop counting from that day.  Every day, counting.

Digg’s eyebrows shot up.  “I thought it was three.  Or wasn’t that you hiding in the corner at my wedding?”

Ah yes.  Felicity was forgetting.  She kept count from the day her life fell apart, but three years ago she had dragged herself…or, more accurately, Caitlin had dragged her out, one last time, for Digg and Lyla. 

Their old CO and his lady love had finally done what Oliver had wanted them to do all those years ago.  They told Amanda Waller to go to hell, to separate them at her own risk.  Their bravery had been rewarded.  The wedding had been beautiful. 

And Felicity and Caitlin had both been miserable.  It was also the only time Felicity had ever mixed benzos and wine. 

Not on purpose.  Of course, not on purpose.  One thing Felicity’d never been was suicidal. 

But she’d taken a Xanax for a panic attack triggered by Slade’s best man’s speech.  Because _Oliver_ should have given that speech.  Only Oliver wasn’t there and that was  _her_  fault.  Then Felicity started to think about how if things had been different it could have been Digg giving the speech at Felicity and Oliver’s wedding.  And if  _that_  wasn’t devastating enough she thought, no, it should be  _Ronnie_.  Which led to thinking about Ronnie and Caitlin’s wedding…

So, Felicity had escaped to the bathroom and gulped down a Xanax, completely forgetting until it was too late the wine and champagne she’d drank to get through the cocktail hour.  She didn’t remember much after that. 

But she knew two things:  Never again.  And  _that_  was why Felicity didn’t leave the Cave.

Clearing her throat, Felicity forced herself to ask, “How  _is_  Lyla?” 

But then Felicity had to turn away, because Lyla and John reminded her of her and Oliver, of what they could have been if life had gone differently, if Felicity had  _been_  different, had chosen another path.   She came around to the other side of her desk and sat down, hoping the heavy wood of the cluttered furniture would be an effective barrier between her old friend and her frayed nerves.

“Well,” Digg replied simply, sitting down in the armchair across from her, giving absolutely nothing significant away about his feelings or his wife, but then, no one had a poker face like John Diggle.

“But you didn’t come to talk about that,” Felicity prompted because Digg was playing poker, but her game was blackjack, and his mere presence was draining so they needed to get on with it already.

“No.”

Then the damn man just sat back and stared at her.  What the frack?  Was John trying to _break_ her?  Damn Field Agents.  Felicity had forgotten how exhausting it was to have a conversation with one.  She gestured impatiently, “Do you need something from my team then?” 

There was a pause.  Then, “I need Overwatch.”

Okay…maybe Felicity didn’t want to know after all. 

Felicity’s vision blurred.  She genuinely feared she might pass out and she’d had a protein bar an hour ago so it wasn’t hypoglycemia this time.  It was the simple utterance of a name.  A name she had once been so proud of.  How far she had fallen from the courageous Field Agent she once thought she was. 

Felicity swallowed, forcing herself to speak, “Overwatch is…”

Dead.  Overwatch died in a chamber deep below the Temple of the Jaguar five long years ago.  A lifetime ago.  She died alongside Ronnie Raymond, Firestorm, with a bullet to the gut.  Overwatch had been wrenched from inside her and thrown away along with the rest of her ‘unnecessary’ parts, leaving Felicity the empty shell she was now. 

“…retired.”

Digg frowned, but his expression showed he had anticipated that answer.  And that he wasn’t giving up that easily.  Felicity would expect nothing less.  John was nothing if not tenacious.   “Well, unfortunately, I… _all_ of us will need her to come  _out_  of retirement.”

“Digg…” Felicity started already shaking her head, using his nickname again for the first time as her fists became tight balls under her desk.  A desperate attempt to still the tremor.

“I wouldn’t ask if anyone else could do the job,” John insisted, leaning forward with his hands up, a gesture of peace.  He looked more sympathetic now.  As if he had some  _fraction_  of an idea of what he was asking of her. 

But he had no idea.  She’d never told him, which was a least half the problem.  John just didn’t understand she couldn’t do what he was asking her to do.  Felicity was barely able to hold a conversation with someone who didn’t live in the Cave.  How could she function in the field?

“I need you.  The god _damn_ world needs you.”

Seriously?  This was too much.  No one needed  _her_.  Felicity leaned back, pushing her glasses up so she could rub her eyes, wishing she could wipe out this entire conversation, wishing it was all a strange dream.  “You’ve never been one for melodrama, John.” 

That was good.   She sounded like Team Leader Smoak.  Not like the broken little girl that she felt like.  If the world needed her, they could do so with her working from the Cave.  It was the only place she could function like a human being.  Out there…Felicity just wasn’t up to the challenge.  Look what happened last time.

“And I’m not now.”  Digg leaned his elbows on his knees, his face hard.  He looked frighteningly serious.  “Are you ready to listen?”

Great.  John  _had_  to give her a choice, didn’t he?  That way he looked like the good guy, giving her a chance to refuse, even though Felicity could do no such thing.  What was she going to do?  Put her hands over her ears and hum?  Say ‘No’ and run and hide in the bathroom? 

And then once Felicity agreed, Digg could say that she’d gone along with it all willingly.  He always was a tactical genius.  The bastard.

Felicity nodded.  But even the nod was a lie.  Because she wasn’t ready to hear  _anything_. 

But Felicity was still an Agent of ARGUS, whether she liked it or not.  And that meant she had to pretend.  To be brave.  To be ready.  To pretend to know what the frak she was doing.

Tension Felicity hadn’t even noticed was there left Digg’s shoulders.  Had he actually thought she would bolt?  Maybe he understood better than she thought he did.   

“You know HIVE?” John asked.

“Of course,” Felicity answered with an impatient wave of her hand. 

That was something that easily fit into Team Leader Smoak’s wheelhouse.  And, honestly, what did they  _think_  they did down here?  HIVE had been ARGUS’ main objective for years now, ever since the remnants of Reiter’s Shadowspire had splintered and reformed into something more menacing, more overreaching.  The Cave was working to bring HIVE down in their way same as the rest of the organization.

“What do you know of Damian Darhk?”

Was this a test?  “He’s one of HIVE’s top-dogs.  Or Queen bees, depending on the analogy you prefer.  I prefer bees, cause  _hive_ , bzzzz…” Great, now she was doing that rambling thing.  Felicity hated when that happened.  “He’s rumored to have magical powers.  AKA most definitely into some pretty dangerous crap.  We deal with science here, John.  Paranormal is two floors down.” 

And how awesome would it be if that was that?  Felicity could just introduce John to

“Darhk is after the Lost City and the Gift of the Sun.”

Well… _fuck_.

Felicity stiffened, but didn’t let herself panic.  Not yet, anyway.   “Kin Cuudad and Kin Zil?” 

John nodded, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Still not panicking.  Nope.  Felicity took a deep breath and said, “They don’t exist.”  She was proud of how calm and certain she sounded. 

But John didn’t look even a little bit swayed.  “Darhk and a thousand of his operatives seem to believe otherwise.”

Felicity shook her head.  No.  She was  _not_  going down this rabbit hole.  This was a question she had answered  _over_  five years ago.    No wild goose chases for her.  Darhk could search for Kin Cuudad all he wanted.  It was lost and couldn’t be found.

Though there was an uneasy tingle starting in the base of her spine.  Something Felicity hadn’t felt in a long, long time.  Not since that last night with Oliver…no!   _No_ , she was  _not_  thinking about him.  If she started to think about Oliver and  _that_  night, she really would have a breakdown.  She had to stick to the facts.  The things she  _knew_.

“I’ve done the research, John.” That was why he was here, wasn’t it?  “I’ve read every tablet, every wall, every hieroglyphic.  I’ve studied every book that has ever been written on the subject.  If the Lost City of the Sun God, Kin Cuudad, actually existed at one point in time, it doesn’t anymore.  It was destroyed twenty three hundred years ago.  And the Gift, Kin Zil, with it.  Legend has it that Kin Zil is a hundred times more powerful than the Obsidian Skull.  Reiter would never have settled for that if he thought the Gift was real.”

“ _That_ ,” Digg said, pointing his finger directly at her, “is  _exactly_  why we need Overwatch.  No one knows this shit like you do, Felicity.”

What did that matter?  Who cared how much she knew about a  _myth_?  Felicity sure as hell wasn’t torturing herself over a work of fiction.

“John I…”  Felicity clenched her jaw.  “Look, I can give you Cisco.  Or Curtis.  Or both.  They would jump at the chance to work with you in the field.”  Even if it came to nothing they could gain some good experience.   “I’ll even call this Mayan expert I know at Oxford.   But I’m—”

“I can’t take some untrained professor with an Indiana Jones fantasy on a mission like this,” John interrupted, harsher now, giving her a withering look for good measure.  Sometimes his go-to was to make younger agents feel like errant children.   “Oh and I’m taking Curtis anyway.  I’ve got the old team together, but we’re down an engineer.  And Cisco’s on board too.  But none of that means I don’t need  _you_.”

Felicity’s eyebrows shot up.  Since when could he bugger members of  _her_  team without asking…wait.  The old team?  The  _entire_  old team.  No, that wasn’t possible.  Oliver was still in Russia.  And Ronnie…

Then Digg added, “Even Caitlin agreed.”

“What?”   _What_!  Why would Caitlin agree to this…this suicide mission?  This fool’s errand. This quest of  _self-destruction_?  And why the  _hell_  wouldn’t she talk to Felicity about it first?  “She wouldn’t—”

“She _did_ ,” John insisted, cutting her off cleanly.  Oh frak, now he looked  _really_  serious.  He was done playing. “Felicity, we found a door.”

A door?  A door to Kin Cuudad?  The mythical Lost City of the Sun that was the basis of so many Mayan myths?  It was said to be the most beautiful city ever inhabited by man, its princess the daughter of the Sun God himself.  Of course, after the place was destroyed, Felicity was sure the exaggerations just piled on, one on top of the other, reaching epic levels.  But the place had always fascinated her.  As it had Reiter.  And now, apparently, Darhk.

And then there was the Gift.  Kin Zil.  No one knew exactly what it was.  Only that the Sun King, Kinish Ahau, had given it to his (supposed) daughter and that it held great power.  The rumored power was immense enough to spark secret wars that had been fought on and off for centuries.  And it looked like yet another was about to begin.

Shaking her head, Felicity tried to block out what John was saying.  Block out the memories.  Block out the logic and reasoning.  Block out the part of her that knew that if what he was saying was true, then Felicity needed to listen.  They couldn’t let Darhk get his hands on magic that powerful.  It was unthinkable.  But why did it have to be  _her_.

“ARGUS found what we believe to be the door to the Lost City three hours west of Palenque, Mexico, in the jungle,” Digg told her, slowly, as if he knew this was hard for Felicity to hear.  “We aren’t going to be able to keep the information from HIVE for long.  Waller and every other big-wig involved believe you are our best chance of getting that door open before Darhk does.”

“And you?” Felicity asked at a whisper, finally letting it all sink in.  And because, at her core, she still trusted John Diggle’s judgement above Amanda Waller’s any day of the week.

“ _I_  think you are our  _only_  chance.”

Felicity sucked in a hissing breath.  She didn’t want to hear that.  She didn’t want to hear  _any_  of this.  She wanted it all to be a vivid dream.  One of the many she experienced after falling asleep at her work station, having been awake for way too many hours. 

How could  _she_  be their only chance?   Felicity may have found the Chamber of the Obsidian Skull five years ago, but it had been too late and the collateral damage was beyond unacceptable.  There  _had_  to be someone better. 

“I’ll let you think about it.”  John stood, placing a packet between them on Felicity’s desk.  He was a man who knew when to push and when to walk away.  Poker.  He was the best.

Felicity opened the envelope to find four tickets to Cancun, Mexico, leaving first thing in the morning. 

Or maybe he was walking away because he knew he didn’t have to  _convince_  her of anything.  He’d already won.

“Think about it, huh?” 

ARGUS didn’t ask.  It ordered.  Was John only pretending to give Felicity a choice?

But Digg smiled, ignoring her irritation completely.  “I know you’ll make the right decision.” 

Which was just playing dirty and he knew it.  Go ahead, John, play the guilt  _and_  the faith cards.  So not cool. 

Then Digg leaned over and squeezed Felicity’s hand before turning to leave, making her miss the relationship they used to have so very much.  The manipulative bastard.

Felicity lifted her gaze to watch him leave, allowing just a touch of the conflicted emotions she was feeling to show now that his back was turned.  But then she saw Caitlin hovering at the door. 

Cait greeted Digg warmly, but why wouldn’t she?  While Caitlin had left the team with Felicity, everyone had known why _she_ left.  Everyone had understood.  Her husband had been murdered.  How could they protest?  She’d been kept in contact with everyone, even if it was from a distance.  She didn’t have the guilt that Felicity lived with.

Except, of course, right now.

Caitlin turned to her friend…her best friend (supposedly) and sheepishly entered Felicity’s office as soon as John left.  She wore her own armor of heels and a crisp white lab coat, but, this time, she also wore a guilty expression that told Felicity that it was true.  She had already agreed to to go back to the Yucatán.

“I can’t  _believe_  you,” Felicity lashed out before Caitlin could say something reasonable and deprive Felicity of the ability to release some of this… _terror_  building up inside her. 

It was all too much.  Too much longing and too much guilt and regret and Felicity didn’t want to face the outside world, never mind the  _old team_.  And Mexico.  And saving the world?  Felicity couldn’t even keep track of all the emotions she was feeling. 

So Felicity focused on the only one she could grab hold of.  Anger.  At her best friend. “I can’t  _believe_  you agreed to go back without even  _talking_  to me,” she hissed. 

Caitlin winced.  “Felicity…. I think, I…we…”  Her friend took a deep breath and stood up straight, smoothing her palms down the sides of her lab coat and meeting Felicity’s furious gaze.  “I think  _I_  need this.  I’ve been stuck down here for too long.   So have you.”  She said the last softly, gently.

“And the first trip you decide to take is to Mesoamerica?”  Seriously?  Cait was coming out of the gate with  _that_  argument?   She would have gotten a lot further with the ‘save the world’ bent.  “With the temples and the magic and the  _heat_ —?“

“September shouldn’t be as hot as June…” Caitlin tried in a small voice, worrying her fingers and biting her lip.  “Well, maybe not.”

“It’s  _hurricane season,_ Caitlin!”  And why were they talking about the weather?  Besides the fact that Felicity was certain the feel of the humidity and the  _smell_  of Central America would be incredibly triggering.  She hadn’t even known what “triggering” was before Tikal and now...she had enough flashbacks of  _that_  day to last a hundred lifetimes.

Caitlin reached out and grabbed Felicity’s hand, which was rather brave of her given everything.  Especially since, unlike with Digg, Felicity didn’t even try to hide her distress from Cait.  She was the one person on earth who knew everything.

“Felicity, I’ve been hiding in my grief for five years, unable to move past Ronnie,” Cait pleaded, forcing Felicity to meet her gaze.  “Well, I’m finally ready to move on and I think this is the way to do that.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Felicity turned her head away, but she continued to hold Cait’s an argument hand.  Her friend was smarter than she initially gave her credit for.  Felicity might not listen to that  _she_  should move on, but there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Caitlin.  Though, if it wasn’t for the ‘save the world’ part, she’d argue having dinner out might be a better place to start.

“Well, what if  _I’m_  not ready?” Felicity whispered, hating how pathetic and vulnerable she sounded, even if it was just with Cait.  Even if it was true.  She was very much  _not_  ready.  She wasn’t sure she ever would be.

“I think you are ready to let your grief go,” Caitlin told her gently.  “It’s the  _guilt_  that you’re holding on to.”

That one cut like a knife and Felicity pulled away, going to stare out the fake window into the projections of mountains and clear skies.  Felicity wondered if they would switch it to clouds and rain if she asked or if they’d make her go back to Psych if she tried.

This was the problem with best friends.  Sometimes, they actually did know you better than you knew yourself.  Sometimes, they knew you  _too_  well.  Caitlin was right.  Of course, she was right. 

The grief and pain after Tikal had led Felicity to shut everyone out.  Everyone but Caitlin, because what right did she have to shut _Cait_ out.  Caitlin was in even more pain than she was.  Ronnie was  _dead_.  Felicity had given Oliver up, but she had the comfort of knowing he was alive and healthy, that he still had a  _chance_  of happiness. 

At least, Oliver would have if Felicity hadn’t frak… _fucked_  it all up.  In the end, she had ruined his life.  Completely.

Felicity had refused to see anyone after the surgery for her bullet wound.   _Anyone_.  She didn’t trust herself to stay strong if she was face to face with Oliver.  Or any member of the team.  Her plan was clear.  Her objective was to make sure Oliver led a happy life, even if she couldn’t.  It was out of love that she shut him out and Felicity would maintain that to the end of her days, even if she now knew it was stupid and misguided.

She hurt him so Oliver could be happy.  God, how  _stupid_  that sounded now?  How could she have been so short-sighted?  Felicity had been  _so_  sure of herself.

She had known what it would take to make Oliver walk away.  A clean break.  With Felicity as the bad guy.  Then he could move on.  Ideally, he would leave ARGUS all together go back to Starling, to his long lost family.  Find someone to heal the wounds she’d inflicted and get to work on his miniature baseball team.  His Queen Legacy.

But that wasn’t what happened. 

Oliver had finally walked away, all right, but it wasn’t to go home.  After three long and painful months of trying to get Felicity to talk to him, he had finally given up, but instead of going home to Starling, he had taken an undercover mission with the Russian Mafia.  The fucking  _Bratva_.

Felicity couldn’t think of a more dangerous assignment.  Not even to his health.  To his  _soul_.  It was the exact  _opposite_  of what Felicity had wanted for Oliver.  She still couldn’t fathom how it went so wrong.

When Felicity found out about Oliver’s new mission, she had gone to Caitlin and confessed the whole thing…the injury, the surgery, the idiotic plan… _everything_.  Cait had been sympathetic, understanding.  The best friend anyone could ask for.  Which meant, of course, she’d told Felicity to go straight to Oliver.  To tell him whatever she had to to stop him from going to Russia.

And Felicity had.  Incredibly, she’d taken Cait’s advice and rushed over to Oliver’s room like a scene out of a bad RomCom, ready to do whatever it took.

But this wasn’t a movie. Oliver was already gone.  Gone so deep undercover there was no way to contact him.  Not even to deliver a message. 

It had been too late.

That was five years ago.  Oliver had been undercover with the Bratva for  _five years_.  With no contact with the outside world save an unknown handler.  Sometimes, Felicity wondered if there was anything left of the Oliver she knew.

All information on him was need to know only.  And down here in the Cave, they didn’t need to know anything. 

Felicity could hack in, of course, but not without leaving a trace, a trail for other ARGUS Information Specialists to follow.  There had been a few instances when she’d woken from nightmares so intense…she had given in and looked.  Just to make sure Oliver was still alive.  But really, what right did she have to that comfort?

She had sacrificed her happiness for Oliver’s and ended up destroying his more completely than she could have ever imagined.  Perhaps for good.  She’d seen agents after missions like this one…Felicity shuddered.  She was a woman greatly revered for her intellect and her _stupidity_ had destroyed Oliver’s life.  The one person she loved more than anything.

Caitlin crept up behind her, wrapping her arms around Felicity’s middle and resting her chin on her shoulder.  “This is going to be a really difficult trip for me,” she whispered, not even trying to hide the cajoling undertone.  “I’d really like it if my best friend could be there for moral support.”

Felicity sagged, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle.  “Low blow, Snow.”

But she already knew she was fighting a losing battle.  Felicity already had enough guilt on her plate, she wasn’t going to leave the world…and her  _friends_  to the likes of Damian Darhk if she could help it.  Even if she wasn’t actually capable of the miracles they were expecting from her.  And even if she really,  _really_  wanted to.

“Well,” Caitlin continued, faux-reasonably.  She knew she had won, damn her. “You  _could_  stay here.  I’m sure we could find another trained agent with 173 IQ who spent a year in the field learning everything there is to know about Mayan culture and mytho—”

“I get the picture,” Felicity sighed.  Point taken.  No need to beat it home.  Really, she had known the moment Digg told her he needed her she would do it.  And so had they.

Caitlin wrinkled her nose, asking in a small voice, “So you’ll come?”

Felicity grunted.  “It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice, does it?”

Live with the guilt of her friends going without her and the knowledge that anything that went wrong was the fault of her cowardliness?  Or go and live with the fact that any failure was the result of her incompetence?

No.  She didn’t have much of a choice.  Either way, Felicity’s past was coming back to finish off what was left of her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Note:**
> 
>  
> 
> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/166474938855/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-1))
> 
> Tikal and Palenque are both real places in Mesoamerica that you can visit. Kinish Ahau is the name of their Sun God. Much of the mythology I have created here is inspired by real Mayan religion and what we know of their language, but everything about the Lost City exists only in my brain.
> 
> Please, don’t forget to let me know what you think. You can also visit me at http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	3. Chapter 2: Mayan Rivera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For first time readers, warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 15, 2016_  
_06:23_  
_Airport_  
_Undisclosed location, USA_

 

Life could change course dramatically, in the space of a heartbeat.  Felicity had learned this the hard way.

A computer virus was released and seconds later debts were erased and the FBI notified.  A gun trained on the man she loved and one quick lunge to the right…everything changed, altered, distorted.  Lives…never the same.  Dreams…dead.

So, it really shouldn’t surprise Felicity that nineteen hours after meeting with John Diggle, her life was, one again, unrecognizable.  

Less than a day and Felicity and Caitlin were climbing out of a cab dressed for the first vacation they had been on in a decade.  Of course, it wasn’t  _actually_  a vacation.  In fact, it more resembled a hell on earth scenario, but it was all about appearances, right?  That's what being undercover was all about.  Crap, she hated undercover.

Felicity wasn’t even sure she recognized herself.  She was wearing the sort of light and breezy sundress that she hadn’t worn in years, looking for all the world like any other (late) twenty-something meeting her friends for a vacation in Cancun.  The only thing that felt like  _her_  were her glasses and her ponytail, a reminder to herself that she wasn’t  _that_  Felicity Smoak anymore.  And she never would be. 

Caitlin and Felicity had gotten ready for this trip with a quick efficiency and a scarcity of conversation, both lost in their own thoughts, gathering their own strength.  They made it through the security check with a well-oiled grace.  Something that was especially impressive given they were both carrying firearms.  Agents don’t leave home without them.

Internally, the two women might be the very definition of a train wreck (metaphorically, of course), but it was amazing how easily they fell back into undercover work, (even if Felicity _was_ hating it) doing the perfect impression of two happy-go-lucky friends off for sunnier shores. 

Well, maybe they didn’t  _quite_  pull off happy-go-lucky, but it was barely past dawn. Surely, too much cheerfulness would be suspicious at this hour.

Suspicious, like say, the wolf-whistle that sounded behind them. 

The women froze, sending each other a  _look_.  Felicity prayed… _prayed_  that it was just some chauvinistic asshole.  Because if it was who she thought it was, so help them…Felicity took a deep breath, grabbed Cait’s arm, and turned…

Why, god?  _Why_?

“Hey, hot stuff... _s_.  Plural.   What's the plural for hot stuff?”

Felicity closed her eyes and groaned, throwing her head back.  Why was this her life?  And, ironically, how was this the  _good_  part?

She heard Caitlin hiss, “ _Cisco_!”

When Felicity opened her eyes again it was to see not one, but  _two_ , Bermuda shorts clad dorks jogging toward them, both radiant with excitement.  And the worst part…they were  _her_  dorks. 

“How about foxy mamas?” Cisco offered with a wide grin, doing some weird jig thing that Felicity suspected he thought passed for sexy. 

"You know I'm technically your boss, right?  So, um…really not appropriate,” Felicity griped, praying it would just  _stop_.  She hadn’t had enough coffee for this. 

Felicity couldn’t help but wonder how long the line for the Jitters Kiosk would be at this time of the morning?  What was she thinking?  It didn’t matter.  _Any_  amount of time was worth it.  Especially if Cait dealt with the guys while she was waiting.  Felicity would happily buy her a cappuccino for her trouble.

Cisco just grinned wider, either oblivious to her discomfort or reveling in it.  He leaned toward Felicity, saying in what he probably thought was a whisper, “You know we’re undercover, _right_?”

And Curtis, the big idiot, just nodded.  How were they be  _this_  awake?  “And here I thought _we_ were the junior agents here.”  He gestured to him and Cisco.

The shorter man nodded.  “The girls must be out of practice.” 

Outside the lab, Cisco and Curtis’ rivalry was non-existent.  And when they joined forces they were the Dynamic Duo of Dork’s everywhere.  Unstoppable.  Heaven help them all.

“Or…” Caitlin jumped in, irritated and getting more so by the second.  “We’ve just never been sexually harassed by our teammates before.”

Cisco laughed and bumped her shoulder with his.  “That's not what I heard,” he leered, leaned in with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. 

Only Cisco would bring up Caitlin’s relationship with her teammate, her  _dead_  husband, and get away with it. 

And by get away with it, Felicity meant that instead of Caitlin going stony and freezing him out, she just blushed and attacked Cisco with full-on cat-fight slaps.  Nothing had ever been  _so_  deserved. 

And, somehow, in the space between her prolonged nervous breakdown and her incredibly inappropriate teammates, Felicity laughed.   And, for a moment, she felt almost normal.

Maybe, this wouldn’t be  _so_  bad.  Felicity had her new team to watch her back.  All she needed to do was figure out how to open that damn door (or debunk it) and she had the best The Cave could offer to help her.  Surely, together they could figure it out and be out of there without any bloodshed.  Right?

Once Cait’s attack was over, Cisco twined his arm with a disgruntled Caitlin’s (proving just how not cowed he was by her) and turned to Felicity.  “But seriously,  _boss lady_ , I’ve never seen you looking so cheerful and fresh.”

Felicity must have picked her outfit well, because the last thing she was feeling was cheerful  _or_  fresh.  What kind of compliment was that, anyway?  It sounded like a deodorant commercial.

“Umm hmmm,” Curtis hummed, throwing an arm around Felicity’s shoulder. 

Little did they know that all of her clothes from… _before_  were cheerful and bright.  Sunny even.  Felicity had been a different person.

“You look smokin,’” Cisco sang, doing another one of those ridiculous hip wiggles.  “No, pun intended.”

Curtis chuckled, leaning toward Felicity to say, “Don’t let him fool you.  The pun was  _very much_ intended.  In fact, I’d put down money that Cisco has been waiting  _years_  for just the right moment to use it.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at their antics (even if it did do wonders to relax her) and muttered quietly, “Believe it or not, I still remember how to go undercover.  Though, Cait, I seem to remember that it involves less  _mentioning_  we’re undercover.”

“Why, Felicity,” Caitlin tapped her finger to her lips, mock contemplative.  “I do believe you’re right.  It’s just been  _sooooo_  long.”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Cisco cut in.  “I’m pretty sure this delectable little sundress has less to do being…” He dropped his voice to a whisper, “undercover,” earning more eye-rolls.  “And more to do with the fact that Felicity here is seeing her gorgeous ex for the first time in five years.  Not that I’ve ever met the man, so—”

“Oh, he’s  _gorgeous_ ,” Curtis interjected.  “I’ve seen pictures.  But you are  _killing it_  in this, Felicity.”

“You know, now might be a good time for you to tell us what happened between you and Agent Tall-Gorgeous-and-Dangerous,” Cisco teased.  “Just so we know if we should be all cold and protective or…Felicity _?_   You okay?”

Okay?

No.  No, Felicity was not okay.

In fact, as soon as Felicity had realized what the  _hell_  the two men were talking about, she had become the very definition of  _not okay_.  It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head, seeping over her slowly and chilling her to the bone. The world seemed to move in slow motion and their words sounded as if they were coming from a distance, muffled.

Somehow, Felicity managed to whisper, “What…what did you say?”

“Ummm,” Cisco eyes darted between her and the others, looking a bit freaked out himself.  Which meant Felicity probably looked like a mental patient.  Fabulous.  Just  _fabulous_.  “I said—”

“Shut it!”  Caitlin smacked Cisco again, pushing him out of the way.  She turned her concerned gaze to Felicity, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her to face Cait completely, blocking out the guys. 

“Cait?” Felicity whimpered.  She hated the way she sounded.  Small.  Frightened.   Pathetic.  “I only have one gorgeous ex and he’s in Russia.  Right?  He’s in  _Russia_ , Cait?   _Tell me_  he’s in Russia.” Not that she wanted him to be in Russia, but…

The face Caitlin made said it all.  “Digg didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me  _what_?”  Felicity knew she sounded hysterical, but…oh, god, she knew  _what_.  

“I thought John told you.  I said we needed to face our pasts and I thought you understood I meant…” Caitlin trailed off, licking her lips and…Felicity realized that Cait meant that she had to face Oliver. 

Caitlin wanted Felicity to face  _Oliver_.  Dear lord.   _Oliver._.. 

“It’s going to be the old team.   _All_  of us.  Except Ronnie, of course…”

Great, now Felicity felt like a bitch  _and_  a mental patient.  She found Caitlin’s hand and squeezed it tight, whispering, because she just couldn’t seem to get past it this, “But how could Oliver be there when he’s undercover?”

He was unreachable.  Lost in the Bratva.

“Oh,  _Felicity_.” Caitlin seemed to deflate.  “Oliver’s mission in Russia was over weeks ago.  It was a huge sting.  They were able to take down a massive portion of the Bratva power structure.  Oliver had to get out of there.  I can’t believe no one told you.” 

But, of course, no one told her.  Everyone was terrified to mention Oliver’s name to her.  He Who Must Not Be Named.  And rightfully so.  Look what happened when they did.

“He’s been debriefed and finished R&R and…”

“And?”  Felicity held her breath, waiting for the answer.  The confirmation.  The final nail in her coffin.

Caitlin was nothing but sympathetic when she murmured, “ _And_  he’s meeting us in Mexico.  With the rest of the team.”

Felicity knew it was coming.  She had just been waiting for the words.  But still they hit her like a Mack truck and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

“Excuse me,” Felicity muttered, ducking under Curtis’ arm and dashing to the bathroom.  Somehow, she managed to get there before she truly started to hyperventilate. 

Frak.  Frak.   _Frak_. 

She was an anxious wreck.  A basket case.  What right did Felicity have to be out in the field?  She was going to get someone killed.  Who in their right mind cleared her for this mission?

Leaning over a sink, Felicity splashed cold water onto her face.  This was  _insane_.  She couldn’t behave this way.  And from the _idea_  of seeing Oliver again…

Felicity stumbled into the lady’s room lounge, finding a corner behind the door and sliding down the wall to sink the ground.  Oh dear god.  It wasn’t an  _idea_.  Felicity was  _going_  to see Oliver.

After five years, three months, and eleven days, Felicity was actually going to see Oliver.  _Her_ Oliver.  Talk to him.  Maybe even touch him.

With shaking hands, Felicity reached for her bag and pulled out a bottle of pills, struggling with the cap.

“Here, let me,” Caitlin whispered, kneeling in front of her and taking the bottle from Felicity’s clumsy, incompetent hands.  Cait opened the cap easily and handed her a small white pill and a bottle of water.

Felicity swallowed the pill gratefully.  But when she took the pill bottle back, she shook it at Cait angrily.  The  _full_  bottle of Xanax.  “I haven’t needed these in months, you know.”

“I know,” Caitlin agreed gently.  Because Felicity needed gentleness.  Because she was a friggin _lunatic_.  And people needed to walk on egg-shells around her, even the woman who was going to face the scene of her  _husband’s murder_.

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut.  “Something tells me this bottle will be empty by the time we go home.”

_If_  they go home. 

Now,  _there_  was a morbid thought.  When had Felicity gone from freaking out about seeing the love-of-her life, to being convinced they were all going to die on this mission? 

The scary thing was, it wasn’t all that far-fetched.  In some ways, they had gotten lucky last time.  Only losing one of them.  If half of what she heard about Darhk was true, he was so much worse than Reiter.

Caitlin settled next to her, her back to the wall and her shoulder pressed against Felicity’s.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have assumed that Digg told you.”

Felicity shook her head.  She wasn’t angry at Caitlin.  She couldn’t be angry at anyone but herself.  She was the one responsible for this whole ridiculous mess.  Well, and  _Reiter_ , but he was dead, so blaming him did no good.

And, the irony of it all, was that, despite everything, Felicity was kinda, sorta… _thrilled_. 

How sick was that?  God, Felicity  _wanted_  to see Oliver again.  She wanted to see that he was alive and whole.  She wanted to hear his voice…and she was so completely pathetic that it wasn’t even funny.  Also, she was going to get her heart trounced.  Though, if any woman deserved to get her heart shattered it was her.

Would Oliver  _want_  to see her?  Was he upset that Felicity was joining the team?  Was he over her?  As Felicity would never be over him?  Did he hate her?  He had  _every right_ to hate her.

But,  _god_ , Felicity didn’t know how she could handle seeing Oliver look at her with hate.  Or even apathy for that matter.  She didn’t even know which one was worse.

“God, Cait,” Felicity finally whispered, the words tumbling out, “how am I going to face him?  I ruined his  _life_ —”

“The way you always do.  With courage and determination,” Caitlin insisted, lacing their hands together.

Felicity huffed.  “Yeah.”  Caitlin couldn’t possibly still believe that after all these years of Felicity cowering under the ground.  Her first glimpse of real sunlight in months and here she was, hiding in the bathroom.  “I left any courage I had in Guatemala five years ago.”

“Felicity,” Caitlin squeezed her hand, “it took tremendous courage to walk away from Oliver like you did.  It was incredibly  _misguided_ ….” 

Felicity had to laugh at that.  No truer words.  

“But it was brave.  And it was done out of love.”

Felicity’s laugh disintegrated into a sob.  “I highly doubt Oliver will see it that way.”

Cait shrugged, but her smile was encouraging.  “Then maybe you need to make him.”

Felicity shook her head vehemently at that.  God, Caitlin didn’t  _actually_  think there was a chance at reconciliation?  How could she possibly even entertain the thought?  “Cait…it’s too late.  I had my chance to tell him everything and I…I was  _too late_.  Too late then.  Five years too late now.”

Caitlin moved to crouch in front of her, meeting Felicity’s eyes.  “I know you believe that—”

“ _Cait_ …” Felicity pleaded.  She didn’t want to hear this.  The last thing she needed was false hope.

“Look, Felicity, you need to do this.  Or you will never move on.  I don’t know if Oliver is still in love with you.  But I  _do_ know you are still in love with him.”

Felicity closed her eyes to block out the words, but despite her best efforts a tear escaped. 

“And I also know that you owe it to  _both_  of you to finally tell Oliver the truth.  It’s the only way you’ll ever forgive yourself.”

Taking a shaky breath, Felicity finally nodded and tried to smile at her friend.  She knew everything Caitlin said was true.  There was only one flaw in her argument.

Felicity really didn’t think she deserved forgiveness.

  

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

  

 

_September 15, 2016_  
_16:51_  
_ARGUS Beach House_  
_Mayan Riviera, Mexico_

 

Felicity had a four-plus hour flight to contemplate everything Cait said.  A long, torturous flight without any alcohol (she had already taken that very necessary Xanax), where she found it completely impossible to concentrate on work.

She was going to come face to face with Oliver.  There was absolutely no way around that.  An eight-person team became smaller and smaller the longer the mission went on and everyone had to work together. 

A strain between two people could become deadly.  Finally, Felicity understood why relationships were prohibited on teams.  The whole jumping in front of bullets and emotional breakdowns aside.

They had been so young.  They’d fancied themselves so wise.  And Felicity had been  _so_  stupid.

And speaking of stupid…  

She didn’t even  _want_  to avoid seeing Oliver, not really.  Oh, Felicity was  _terrified._   In a special kind of way she had never been terrified before, but now that she knew he was there, waiting for them, for  _her_  to arrive…

Felicity  _needed_  to see him.  It was a burning itch under her skin.  A craving.  She just needed to get one glimpse of him.  To be near him.  Even if Oliver despised her.

What she was going to say when they were finally face to face was another story all together.  Felicity ran through scenarios while she pretended to flip through research on her tablet.  

They ranged anywhere from Oliver begging her to come back…to facing his overwhelming rage and hatred.  Or even his cold indifference.  Felicity even had a fully formed fantasy/day-mare that Oliver would show up with his new wife.  His gorgeous, competent, Russian Spy wife. 

By the time they landed, Felicity had even decided on the fantasy woman’s eye color and the pitch of her voice.  And even though that was  _exactly_ what she had wanted for Oliver all along, it made her nauseous in a way that the turbulence helped not at all. 

By the time the four of them had reached ARGUS’ lavish beach house that served both as a safe house and their base of operations in this area of the world, Felicity just wanted to get the whole thing over with.  The actual meeting couldn’t be worse than what her mind created. 

So when Cait whispered to her that Oliver was on the beach, talking to Lyla, Felicity hugged her friend for luck, or strength as the case may be, and slipped away as quickly and quietly as she could.

It was a huge private beach, a cove isolated from neighbors by natural rock formations.  It was incredibly peaceful.  Endless pink sand and ocean with a smattering of palm trees and beach furniture to break up the landscape.

Which was why Felicity was immediately able to spot Oliver.  Though, maybe, her eyes would have found him just as quickly in Times Square on New Year’s Eve.   He was in the distance by a group of palm trees, standing in profile talking to someone, presumably Lyla, who was sitting in a beach chair.

And, god, he was…he was beautiful.

He was  _Oliver_.

He looked different.  And exactly the same.  And…god, Felicity was going to cry and Oliver hadn’t even looked her at her yet. 

It had been so  _damn_  long.  One would have thought some of the intense feelings would have dimmed.  But looking at Oliver now only reminded Felicity of how strong it had _always_ been.  From the first look to the last, it would seem.

Oliver’s shoulders were broader, though Felicity had no idea how such a thing was possible.  His hair was shorter, all the youthful floppiness gone.  His face was fuller, more mature.  The five o’clock shadow that he rarely bothered to shave was now more of a close-cropped beard.

Felicity took a couple of steps closer and she could see that Oliver even held himself differently.  His arms crossed, his stance reeked of power and control.  Any trace of the teasing lightness on his face, something she had adored, was gone.  Or at least buried deep.  The weight on those broad shoulders was obvious.

How much of that had Felicity piled on and how much was Russia?  Though, since it was her fault Oliver went to that frozen hell in the first place, she supposed she could consider herself to blame for all of it.

Her feet faltered in the sand, her wedges sinking, throwing her off balance.  Felicity found her muscles freezing up before she could get too close, the panic starting to spike again.

What was she going to  _say_?  In all her ruminations and scenario running Felicity had never effectively gotten past ‘Hi, Oliver,’ in her head and now she didn’t think she could even manage that.  A part of her prayed he would turn toward her and save her from having to say the first words.  Which was so unfair of her to ask but…

Then she heard Lyla laugh.  Felicity had actually forgotten that Oliver was speaking to a real live person.  Then Oliver smiled and it was…as breathtaking as she remembered it.  Even if it wasn’t at her.

Lyla held out her hand and Oliver took it, helping her to her feet and—

Felicity’s heart skipped a beat and then took off at a frightening speed.  Her blood started to rush in her ears as Lyla’s hugely pregnant belly came into view.  Then the older woman took Oliver’s hand and placed it on her stomach and Oliver’s smile widened and…

And Felicity…

Felicity ran.

This panic attack was worse than the one in the airport, worse than… _frak_ , Felicity couldn’t remember the last time she had had an attack like  _this_. 

But the need to flee was overwhelming.  So Felicity did, tripping over the sand, cursing her damn sandals.  She wouldn’t be surprised if she wound up face down on the beach.  But somehow, she made it to the patio on the side of the house, not exactly sure how she got there.  Her vision was blurry, her lungs burned, her heart felt like it could and would beat right out of her chest. 

Felicity stumbled right up to the wall and leaned her face against the cool stucco.  Closing her eyes tightly, she ignored the tears and forced herself to breathe, trying to force the image of Oliver’s hand on that pregnant belly out of her mind.

Only in Felicity’s mind’s eye it was  _her_  swollen belly Oliver was caressing so fondly and it was the cruelest image her brain could conger.  Something that was not only completely impossible…but the image, the  _idea_  that had destroyed  _everything_. 

If only Oliver hadn’t wanted children, his  _own_  children, so badly, maybe Felicity wouldn’t have acted so foolishly.  Maybe she would have at least turned to him first, or to their friends, told the truth, before throwing absolutely everything away. 

But seeing the look on this new harder Oliver’s face when he looked at Lyla, Felicity knew it was still his dream.  And it was a dream that could never include her. 

Felicity groped for her handbag before realizing that she had left it in the house with the rest of the luggage.  Crap.  She had never needed that damn Xanax more.

Pushing aside her glasses, Felicity brushed away the tears, though no matter what she did they kept coming.  She never used to be such a crier.  She tried to remind herself of that as she did her breathing exercises.  Without the medicine it was all she had.

So…John and Lyla were having a baby. 

Felicity was happy for them.  Really.  She wasn’t so selfish as to begrudge them this.  She just wished she had known.  Of course, it was her own fault, because Caitlin was the only who knew she would have a problem with it so she was the only one who would think to warn her and… well, there was no way Cait had known, she would have told Felicity right away. 

At one point, as her CO, John may have been able to see Felicity’s medical records, but she had had them locked up tight and had herself transferred off his team before he was even out of the hospital.  So, again, even Felicity not getting a warning was her own damn fault.

Ever since Tikal, Felicity had had a  _reaction_  to pregnant woman.  Even worse than seeing babies, for some reason.  It was awful and pathetic, but it wasn’t something she had any control over.

Luckily, Felicity didn’t really have to deal with this…strange phobia of hers very often.  No one got pregnant in The Cave.  People were lucky if they had  _sex_  in The Cave. 

She didn’t mean…not in the Cave,  _in The Cave_ , not like they were going at it next to the microscopes…actually, if they  _did_  have sex, that was probably  _exactly_  what they did.  

But outside of her crazy celibacy starved mind, Felicity was pretty sure there was very little intimacy going on.  In fact, they all bonded over their shared lack of a personal life.  It was a beautifully asexual existence. 

Felicity didn’t even remember the last time she had seen a pregnant woman before today…no, that was a lie.  And Felicity did her best not to lie to herself.  It had been December 2014.  The grocery store. 

A woman…a very  _very_  pregnant woman had bumped into her.  Felicity had spent the entire night crying into her mint-chocolate chip ice cream.  Not a pint.  No, a  _whole_  half-gallon.  Her friends teased that she didn’t know how to feed herself, but they didn’t know about her secret ice cream stash. 

Now Felicity ordered groceries on-line.  When she remembered.  Or ran low on Ben and Jerry’s.  And how pathetic was  _that_. 

Felicity secretly thought she was the most pitiful person in The Cave.  And talk about competition.  Maybe if she had left her sanctuary more often, she wouldn’t be such a wreck now.  If they were honestly counting on her to save the world, the world was doomed.

Felicity heaved herself away from the wall, intent on finding her bag now that she was less hysterical.  At least a medicated Felicity was  _half_ -human. 

But she had only taken a few steps when…

“Felicity!”

Startled, Felicity jerked her head toward the sound and saw a blur of blond hurtling toward her.  There was barely a chance to take in Sara’s grinning face before she grabbed Felicity in a bone-crunching hug ( _damn_ , she was strong) lifting Felicity off the ground as if she were Digg’s size and not barely a half inch taller than Felicity herself. 

“Oh my god, girl.  I missed you!”

Felicity found herself laughing (punch drunk, was what she was).  But, also, hugging Sara back, almost as hard.  Frak, she was an emotional mess today.  Maybe Felicity should add Bipolar to the PTSD and Panic Disorder diagnoses her old shrink had given her. 

But somehow Sara’s strong arms grounded her. “Me too,” Felicity confessed tearfully, hugging her old friend harder as she realized how true that was.

All of her conflicted emotions were crashing down on her.  The joy of seeing Oliver alive and whole.  The devastation of what was never to be.  The soul-crushing anxiety.  Seeing Sara again and being so accepted after all Felicity had done…

It was too much.

With a half-sob/half-laugh, Felicity rocked Sara back and forth, hoping her old friend would think these were happy tears.  Maybe they were.  Partially.  Felicity and Sara used to be so close, despite how different they were.  How was it possible that she still felt a connection after everything that had happened?

“I missed you so much,” Felicity whispered, overcome.  She hadn’t known.  This was her  _sister_.  They were her  _family_  and Felicity had sent them away.  Why did she do that?

But at least one of them forgave her.  Wanted her back even.  And that felt wonderful.

Sara finally pulled back.  “Let me look at you!  You look good, girl,” Sara announced after a perusal and Felicity was certain she was being way too kind.  There was no way she didn’t look like the wreckage she was.  “A little pale, but I expected much worse after you were stuck in the ground for so long.”

Felicity’s laugh was watery and she wondered if she was going to be called out for her tears.  “It’s not a literal cave, you know?”

“Isn’t it though?  Isn’t it?”

Laughing, as surely Sara had intended her to, Felicity gave her friend the same perusal.  “You look… _exactly_  the same.”  The same vibrancy, the same strength and beauty.  The same eyes that had seen too much and the smile that knew how to take life as it came.  The same complete lack of judgement. 

Sara tilted her head, her lips mirroring the movement by tipping up on one side. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

_Exactly_  the same.  Thank god something was!  But before Felicity could answer, Sara grinned and threw an arm around her shoulders.  “Come `ere.  Let me introduce you to our new teammate.”

Sara gestured to a tall, built…kid.  God, were they all that  _young_  when they started?

The kid shuffled forward with a small shy smile.  “Hey.”  His hands were buried in his pockets and he looked like an Abercrombie model.  Not as good looking as Oliver, but Felicity could see the appeal.

“This is Roy,” Sara explained.  “He’s going to be another Special Ops on this one since Lyla is preggers and couldn’t fit into the Kevlar.”

Felicity suppressed a shudder at Sara’s flippant words, miraculously keeping her smile in place.  She reminded herself that Sara didn’t know.  Sara had  _no_  idea.  Which was no one’s fault but Felicity’s.

“So, Mrs. Prego Matriarch will stay here, running communications with…” Sara looked at Felicity and scrunched up face, “Forgot his name.  That really enthusiastic Hispanic dude?”

That inspired a genuine laugh, yanking Felicity back into the world of the living.  “Cisco.  He’s awesome.  One of mine.  You’ll love him.”

Sara’s grin was wide.  “Well, if he’s one of  _yours_ …hey, have you met the new engineer we’re taking along?”  Her face grew more serious and dropped an octave.  “Has Caitlin—?”

“That’s Curtis,” Felicity interrupted before Sara could go any further.  “Also one of mine and Cait’s totally good with him.  They’re close.  Well, not  _Ronnie and Caitlin_  close.  Friends close.  Curtis is gay.”  And there went her first embarrassing ramble of the mission.  So many more to look forward to.  Yippee.

But if Sara noticed, she didn’t acknowledge it and poor Roy was looking more than a little intimidated by them both.  Then Sara turned to the boy and said, “I’ll never understand why you all insist on limiting yourself to one gender.  It’s so… _restricting_.”  And Felicity had to wonder if she was  _trying_  to intimate the boy.  For, like, fun.  As a rite of passage or something. 

Then Roy sent Sara a pointed and rather disgruntled look that had the woman asking, innocently, “What?”

“You haven’t actually introduced us yet,” Roy hissed, gesturing his chin at Felicity and she had to actually bite her lip to keep from smiling as Sara rolled her eyes.

“Ooo does da wittle boy need to be fowmally introduced to the pwitty giwl?”

The poor boy scowled, then turned away from Sara completely, taking her challenge by holding out his hand to Felicity.  “Hi, I’m Roy Harper.  On my last mission, manners were important.  I guess I’ll have to adjust.”

His eyes were bright and teasing and Felicity instantly liked him.  She could see why Sara had already adopted him as a younger brother. 

Felicity clasped his hand and gave him a welcoming smile, silently apologizing for Sara.  “I’m Felicity Smoak.  It’s a pleasure, Roy Harper.”

Roy froze, his jaw literally dropping open, his eyes widening dramatically.  “Felicity?  _The_ Felicity.”

Felicity was taken aback.  Okay… “I…I don’t know.  I…” She looked to Sara.  “When did I become ‘ _the’_  Felicity.  What are you guys saying about me?  Is there another Felicity?”  Because she wasn’t ‘ _the’_  material, hadn’t been for a long time.   Maybe not ever.  But their world was small and her name wasn’t common.

Sara shook her head, looking nothing but amused.  Though Sara always looked amused.  Unless she was about to kill you.  Well, sometimes even then.  “Don’t look at me.  I just met Baby Gap here a few days ago.  I don’t even remember mentioning you.  Sorry.”

But Roy pulled himself together enough to answer, “Maybe ‘ _the’_  Felicity isn’t exactly right.  Maybe I should have said ‘Oliver’s’ Felicity?’ Are you  _Oliver’s_  Felicity?”

Her face fell and her stomach dropped.  Felicity was certain that she resembled a mackerel, with her mouth opening and closing, no words coming out. 

Oh dear god, who was calling her  _that_?

Whoever it was, they seemed to have made Sara’s day.  Her laugh was beyond delighted.  “Well, that makes more sense.”  Sara grabbed Roy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  “Yes, my boy, this is most definitely  _Oliver’s_  Felicity.”

“ _What_?”  Felicity was going to murder her.  Sara may be deadly, but Felicity had her own skills.  “No…I mean… _no_.  Well, I was once…but not now…”  And ramble number two was a complete a runaway train and so much worse than the first one.  “I can’t imagine that Oliver had  _another_ Felicity.  That would be really weird.  And I’ve certainly never had _another_ Oliver.  Not that I  _have_  an Oliver.  Not anymore.”  She winced and stretched her jaw, praying it would stop.  “I am not currently anybody’s Felicity, least of all Oliver’s.  Sara, please, help me.  Make it stop.”

“Why would I do that?  That was  _awesome_.” Sara was looking at her like it was Christmas.  She turned to Roy.  “In other words, absolutely,  _yes_ , this is Oliver’s Felicity.”  Then she turned back to Felicity.  “Did I forget to mention that our boy Roy here spent three years in Russia as Oliver’s side-kick?”

This new information made Felicity’s stomach turn over, but not in a bad way this time.  So… _Oliver_  must have mentioned her to Roy.  Enough that Roy remembered her and thought she was important to him.  Felicity swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

“I was his  _partner_ ,” Roy protested, clearly insulted by the ‘side-kick’ comment. 

Sara’s response was her patented stare, one eye-brow up, arms crossed.

Roy folded like a bad hand.  “Okay,  _maybe_  he was my CO, but…I’ll accept protégé.”

“Mmmhmm.”

As entertaining as this all was… “So, umm… you worked with Oliver?” Felicity asked in a small voice, trying not to sound  _too_  interested.

It worked so well that Sara’s smirk settled right back on her.  “What Felicity is asking is…so Oliver talked about her a lot, huh?”

Okay, maybe Felicity should have let sleeping dogs lie.  She interrupted Sara with a hard elbow to the ribs.  But, yes, that’s exactly what she wanted to ask.  It was almost unsettling how well Sara knew her after all this time.

Roy swallowed, seeming to realize he might have gotten himself in deeper than he had intended.   “I wouldn’t say  _a lot_ …”

It was shockingly pitiful how disappointed that made her.

“You know Oliver,” Roy explained, shrugging. “Mr. Stoic.  He doesn’t talk ‘ _a lot’_  about anything.”

Felicity had to bite her lip and hope her face didn’t give anything away, because he hadn’t always been like that.  Sometimes he was, but…not with her.  Not with his team.  And it sounded like Roy  _was_  his team.  The only one he had in that lonely place.

“He grunts a lot.  Tells me what to do.  Oliver loves giving me bizarre training exercises.  But he’s not one for  _conversation_.  And certainly not for  _opening up_.”

And that kind of made Felicity want to cry.

“But the few times he did mention you, it was like… _Felicity_.” Roy put his hands up with his eyes wide, even giving her a touch of jazz hands.  “It was like  _significant_ , you know?  In the whole I-don’t-show-emotions-but-when-I-do-watch-out way.  It had that whole undertone of epic romance and regret and lost love…” Roy trailed off his dramatic recitation and threw Felicity a guilty glance.  “I’m sorry.  Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Which pretty much meant that Felicity was doing a terrible job of keeping the devastation off of her face.  Wonderful. 

“No, no,” she tried to protest.  “I’m glad you did.”  And she was, strangely.  Felicity lapped up every drop of information about Oliver like it was the nectar of the gods and she hadn’t eaten or drank in a week.

Roy gave her a small sympathetic smile, leaning back on his heels and looking her over.  “You know, you’re nothing like I imagined.”

What did  _that_  mean? 

Actually, Felicity could easily guess what it meant.  Roy couldn’t imagine big, tough, _gorgeous_ Oliver with an awkward little nerd like her.  Though it could also be from everything Oliver had said (or  _not said_  as it appeared the case may be) the kid had assumed Felicity was a total bitch.  And she kinda sorta had been.  In this case, anyway.

Either way Felicity imagined that Roy was expecting some tall, dark, spectacularly beautiful woman.  Someone more like Oliver himself…not that he was dark per se.  Or a woman, _obviously_.  But the rest…

“We were never the most obvious pair,” Felicity told Roy, trying to sound flippant and, she was certain, failing miserably.  “Athletic and sophisticated were more his type.  I’m sure that’s who he dated in Russia.  Did he date a lot in Russia?”  Oh no, there she went again.  Too obvious.  Way too obvious.  And with a dash of pathetic thrown in too.  “Wait, don’t answer that.  I don’t want to know.  I mean, I do, but I have no right…actually, no.  I  _hope_  Oliver found a lovely woman to date—”

“There was no one _significant_  in Russia,” Roy told her, rather confidently, clearly trying to hide his grin. 

“Oh.  Good,” Felicity breathed before she realized what she was saying.  Oh god, this  _day_.  It just needed to end already.  “I mean.  No.  I mean, Oliver has every right to be _happy_.  I _want_ Oliver to be happy.  I mean…” She winced, screwing up her face until Roy finally let his smile shine through.  What a fool he must think her to be.  

Yet his eyes were kind.  Roy just seemed so… _sweet_.

“I’m really, really glad you were with Oliver in Russia, Roy,” Felicity blurted, realizing only after she said it how much of a relief it truly was.  “To keep him company.  I hated the idea of him over there all alone.” 

And that was way,  _way_  too much information.  For Sara, never mind Oliver’s sidekick.

But instead of being put off, Roy sort of melted into a full body grin.  Oh god, he was a _puppy_.  And the idea that Oliver had this sweet, fluffy puppy in Russia was extremely comforting.  Enough that Felicity almost didn’t mind how much she was humiliating herself.

“You aren’t what I imagined,” Roy repeated.  “But I  _totally_  get it.”

“Right?” Sara agreed.  “It’s like a yin yang thing.”

“Exactly,” Roy nodded.  And suddenly the two of them were having a moment and it sort of felt like it was at Felicity’s expense.

“You know we’re not together, right?” Felicity argued, feeling the need to correct the  _knowing_  looks passing between them.  “Oliver’s my  _ex_ -boyfriend.  Like as in post-epically terrible break-up where we haven’t talked in five years, three months, and eleven days...”

Oh frak, did Felicity just say that out loud?  Now they were  _both_  smirking at her.  Wonderful.

“So…” Roy rocked back on his heels again, his eyes gleaming.  “Why did you and Oliver break up anyway?  Oliver never said and I got the distinct impression that if I pushed I would get my teeth punched in.”

Felicity choked, but before she could get a word in edgewise Sara turned on her too.  “That is a  _fantastic_  question.  Felicity?”

This is what a deer in the headlights must feel like. 

“Oh…umm…it was a long time ago…” Because if there was one thing Felicity was certain of, she wasn’t going to tell a guy she just met before she even told Oliver.  No way in hell.  Even if he was his puppy.

Sara groaned, rolling her eyes.  “Seriously?  After all this time, you’re _still_ not going to tell us?”

“Come on, what did Oliver do?” Roy wheedled.

That perked Felicity up.  “What?  Nothing!  He didn’t do anything.”  Sara gave her a skeptical look.  Surely, they hadn’t thought all this time…?  “Is that what everyone thinks?  That Oliver  _did_  something?”

Sara nodded and Felicity’s stomach dropped.  “No.  _Nooo_ …it was  _me_.”

“Oh, come  _on_ , Blondie,” Roy laughed, equally skeptical.  “I’ve only known you for like ten minutes and even  _I_  don’t buy that.”

“It’s true!”  All of a sudden, Felicity was desperate for them to understand.  This was so much worse than she’d anticipated.  “It was  _all_  me.  Oliver did  _nothing_  wrong.”

“Well…” Sara’s stance shifted.  It looked like she was starting to believe her.  “That’s not what Oliver thinks.”

Felicity could feel her face fall as Roy nodded his agreement.  “Oliver might not talk about it, but I got the clear impression that he feels it was his fault.  That he  _lost_  you.”

Oh god.  Five years.  Instead of hating her as he should have, as he was _supposed_ to, Oliver was hating  _himself_.  Felicity hadn’t even entertained that possibility.  Her stupidity knew no bounds. 

Because, of course, Oliver blamed himself.  He blamed himself for  _everything_.  He found a way to blame himself for freak storms, claiming he should have known they were coming.  He did this repeatedly.  As if he were a goddamn Meteorologist!

Oliver had always carried the weight of the world on those shoulders.  And Felicity had added to that weight.  Not just added,  _quadrupled_  it.  How had she ever thought this was the right thing?

She had to make the others, at least, understand, “Oliver—”

“Felicity!” 

Her eyes jerked over to see Caitlin hurrying toward her at a frantic pace, a drink in her hand.  Felicity had, seriously, never been so relieved to see anyone in her life. 

“Hey, Sara,” Cait greeted, quickly and a tad dismissively.  She was obviously not as concerned as she normally would be with being rude, because she ignored the friend she hadn’t seen in years and grabbed Felicity’s arm, leaning close to whisper, “Did you see him?”

“From a distance,” Felicity muttered, under her breath, so only Cait could hear.

“Lyla?” Caitlin mouthed.

“Mmm hmm,” Felicity nodded, slowly, trying to express through her eyes alone everything that meant.

Caitlin deflated, blanching.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know.”

Felicity gave her a sad smile and mouthed back, “It’s okay.” 

Even though it really wasn’t.  Not even a little.  But it also wasn’t even close to being Caitlin’s fault.  And Sara and Roy had distracted her, until, well, they hadn’t.

“I brought you a margarita,” Caitlin announced in her regular voice, a voice laced with a bit too much cheerfulness.  Then she added, quieter, “I thought you might need it.  You didn’t have—”

“Left my purse inside.”  Felicity grabbed the drink before Caitlin could change her mind about giving it to her.  “You have no idea how much I need this.”  Two long swallows and the not insubstantial drink was half gone. 

"Whoa!  Watch it, girl,” Sara warned, whistling.  “Slade’s manning the bar, so you know that's not weak.  Lover boy sure has you rattled.”  She gestured toward the beach where Felicity had (once again) abandoned Oliver.

“ _Sara_ ,” Caitlin warned, approaching Sara to pull her aside and hiss in her ear.  Hell hath no fury like a best friend in full Mama Bear mode.  Felicity just hoped Cait didn’t spill any secrets in any attempts to ‘help.’

When Cait stepped aside, Felicity saw Shado lingering behind, hesitating.  Felicity blew out a breath.  She supposed that it was time to woman up.  If she was going to face Oliver, she could damn well face Shado, the only other person who knew the full scope of her folly.  Who had tried to prevent it and had been ignored.  Frak.

“Shado.” Felicity swallowed, approaching the other woman and embracing her gingerly.

“Felicity,” Shado breathed, seeming to sag with relief at her touch.  Then she squeezed Felicity tight and whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry.  I tried to find you first and warn you about Lyla.”

Tears burned her eyes, but Felicity was feeling a little more in control of herself now, so she just shook her head and whispered, “I’m the one who should be apologizing.  I put you in a terrible position all those years ago.  You were right.”  Her voice cracked, but she pushed through.  “You were right about  _everything_.”

Shado smiled as she pulled back, squeezing Felicity’s shoulders.  “Does this mean you’re finally ready to tell Oliver the truth?”

“Ahhh…” Felicity sucked in her breath.  She wouldn’t go  _that_  far.  She saw the look on Oliver’s face as he rested his hands on Lyla’s belly and...  “I don’t know.  Don’t you think it’s a little too late?”  She gulped down the rest of her drink, hoping it would help...something? 

Before Shado could answer, Sara came over and threw her arm around Felicity’s shoulders.  “I need one of those.  We only have one night to relax before we have to go kick some HIVE ass.”

“I’ll leave the ass kicking to you, but I could use another,” Felicity agreed, vastly preferring where  _this_  conversation was going.  Caitlin threw her worried look and Felicity was quick to add, “Just one more.” 

And, dear god, did Felicity needed some liquid courage.  Or _any_ courage.  She was acutely aware that not only would she have to talk to Oliver before the night was over, but Lyla as well.  Because she needed another thing to dread.

They headed around to the back of the house, Sara’s arm around her shoulders and Caitlin’s laced through hers on the other side.  Cait held out a hand for Shado.  And surrounded by her friends, Felicity felt…supported.  It was a good feeling.

Then Roy yelled from behind them.  “Hey, what is this High School?”  And when Felicity looked over her shoulder, his distraught face made her want to bring him home and give him cuddles.  And treats.

“Oh, shut up and get over here, idiot,” Sara called, holding out her hand for Roy and saving Felicity from any inappropriate outpouring of emotion for their sad little puppy.  They were  _definitely_  adopting him.

They walked in comfortable silence and Felicity was almost starting to relax. 

Until…

"You know, you aren't going to be able to avoid Oliver forever," Shado told her gently. 

As if Felicity didn’t know that.  As if every thought she had since she’d found out Oliver was going to be here, hadn’t revolved around that  _very_ fact.

Caitlin nodded, agreeing with Shado and proving she couldn’t read Felicity’s mind after all.   “It may be best if you just get it over with.”

Yeeeeah.  Felicity had tried that.  It ended with a humiliating sprint across the beach and a specular panic attack.

“He won’t bite,” was Sara’s oh-so-helpful contribution. “Unless you want him to.” 

And sexual innuendo to top it all off.  Just what Felicity needed.  She felt completely justified in elbowing Sara for that last smart-ass remark. 

“If you’re all so clever, what  _exactly_  am I supposed to say to him?”  If they were going to badger her, the least they could do is give Felicity some helpful advice.  Because she was drawing a blank.

“How about ‘I forgive you?’” Sara suggested.

Felicity groaned with frustration.  “I  _told_  you.  He didn’t do anything wrong.”  What would it take to make her understand?

But Roy and Sara scoffed, clearly not believing her.  That was until Caitlin added, “He didn’t, actually.”  Shado added a nod of agreement. 

“ _They_  know!” Sara protested.  “How is that fair?”

Felicity didn’t have an answer for that, so she just gave a guilty tilt of her head and a shrug.  It was impossible to explain without going into  _everything_.  But now that she thought about it, it really wasn’t fair.  Not a thing about any of this was fair.

“Wait.”  This time it was Roy who stopped them, coming to halt and putting up his hands. “Oliver really  _didn’t_  cause the break-up?” he asked with a frown.

Three heads shook a negative and, this time, Felicity wasn’t sure if she felt supported or condemned.

“ _Dude_ …”  Roy looked genuinely upset now.  Felicity reaffirmed her position that she was glad he had been in Russia with Oliver.  Oliver needed people in his life that cared about him.  “You have to tell him that!  He’s—”

“Right there,” Caitlin whispered frantically, gesturing with her eyes and scratching nervously behind her ear.

Felicity turned her head in the direction Caitlin was looking and sure enough…not four feet away, stood Oliver.  In all his broody, muscly,  _beautiful_ glory.  He was even more gorgeous close up.  She hadn’t thought she’d forgotten, but…her memory didn’t do him justice.  Her mouth went dry and her heart sped up.

“Hey, Ollie,” Sara called.  “Look what we brought you!  Merry Christmas!  Happy Birthday!  Don’t say I never brought you nothin’.” 

Sara sent Felicity a challenging look, daring her to protest. Then Sara approached Oliver and patted him on the chest before closing her hand around Roy’s arm and yanking him away.  Apparently, she was intent on humiliating, _then_ abandoning her.  Had Felicity said she missed her?  Definitely changing  _that_  conclusion.

Shado sent Felicity a  _meaningful_  look, before gliding away and disappearing to god knows where. 

And then, in one final act of desertion, Caitlin whispered, “Good luck,” before kissing Felicity on the cheek and following the rest.

Then they were gone.  

_All_  of them. 

Even Lyla was nowhere to be seen.  Her entourage.  Her shields.  Vanished into the house.  The whole match-making, busy-body lot of them.  Did they really think they were helping by leaving them alone together?

Because now it was just Felicity and Oliver.  And she still had no idea what to do or say.

Dear god.  What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional pictures and inspiration for this chapter[ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/166513251825/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-2)
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful Betas,  **fairytalehearts**  and  **ireland1733**. I know it’s a cliffhanger on top of all the angst, but there are bright spots coming.
> 
> This is the first time I’ve written a lot of these characters and at least a decade since I’ve tried to juggle so many in one scene. They were a lot of fun to write and I really hope I’m doing these amazing characters’ justice.
> 
> Don’t forget to let me know what you thought. You can also visit me on Tumblr at http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	4. Chapter 3:  Mayan Rivera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Anxiety problems and infertility issues.
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 15, 2016_  
_17:19_  
_ARGUS Beach House_  
_Mayan Riviera, Mexico_

 

Oliver and Felicity stood staring at each other for so long it was almost awkward.  No…it was  _definitely_  awkward. 

Horribly.  Painfully.   _Unbearably_  awkward.

Standing with his hands buried deep in his pockets, Oliver’s face was both impassive and intense.  How he managed to be both at once Felicity couldn’t comprehend, but there was a depth of pain in those beautiful blue eyes that broke her heart and she really hadn’t thought there was anything left to break.

His tongue snuck out to wet his lips in a gesture so familiar, so beloved.  Once upon a time it made Felicity all hot and bothered.  Now it just made her… _long_.  God, she hadn’t even realized how much she had missed…everything.  Him.   _Them_.  Just…Oliver.

Felicity clutched her arms until her knuckles turned white.  She wouldn’t be surprised if she left bruises.  It wasn’t to keep herself from bolting.  Not this time.  No, she held herself tightly to keep from throwing herself into his arms and begging his forgiveness.  Anything, if it could wipe that haunted look from Oliver’s eyes.

Felicity would do it too, if she thought she would be welcome.  But her launching herself at him was probably be the last thing Oliver wanted.  But, then again, he gave no indication  _what_  he wanted.  How could eyes convey so much emotion and yet look so dead at the same time?

It seemed like forever before Oliver finally sighed and acknowledged, “Felicity,” with a small nod of his head.

Okay.  Show time.  Oliver made that all important first move, now it was time for Felicity to talk.  It should be easier now, right?   

Felicity opened her mouth, but no sound came out.  Her vocal cords froze, paralyzed.  ‘Hello, Oliver,’ she repeated in her head, but it wouldn’t  _come out_.  She just stood there like an idiot, her mouth opening and closing.

Because, somehow, _some_ part of her must want to make this first meeting  _more_  painful.

And Oliver, he just…sort of _deflated_.   He held up his hands and turned away, his movements quick.  Jerky.  Irritated.  “You know what, I’ll leave you alone.”

What?!  No.   _No_.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.  How did this happen?  Frak, why was she such a _spaz_!

“Oliver, wait!”

Felicity unfroze in a flurry of graceless motion.  She stumbled forward, almost tripping and she couldn’t even blame that second margarita because she had never  _gotten it_ , and, dear lord, would that have been so  _very_  helpful right about now. 

She managed to grab Oliver’s forearm…because how else was Felicity going to stop him and not fall over, but then he became like stone, not moving a muscle, certainly not _looking_ at her and, god, he was hard and warm and his arms were bigger than before, she was sure of it. 

What Felicity wouldn’t give to have them around her one more time.

Lord, she wished she still had the right to touch him.  But right or not, Felicity couldn’t seem to let Oliver go.  This  _really_  wasn’t going well.

There was another beat of silence, while Felicity struggled to figure out what to say next.  She’d had hours to figure out what to say to him and had come up with nothing.  Now she had seconds…oh no, here came the panic again.

But Oliver lost patience before the anxiety really had time to swell and he shook his head, his gaze focused away from her.  His jaw tight, he told her, softly, “You don’t have to do this, you know?  You don’t  _have_  to talk to me.”

Oh, but she did.  She  _really_  did.  Felicity’s larynx just didn’t seem to agree.

“No.  No, that’s not it,” she was finally able to force out. 

Felicity had never been so fraking inarticulate in her entire life.  But at least  _something_  was coming out.  That was progress… _ish_?  She was also shaking her head furiously, which Oliver couldn’t see, because he wouldn’t look at her.  Which was, like everything else, all her pathetic fault.  She didn’t know what to do?  What should she  _do_?

“I’m sure we can get by with minimal contact,” Oliver told her in an even tone, emotionless, almost mechanical.  “Hell, they probably don’t even need me on this team.”

“What.  That’s not true!”  Of  _course_ , they needed him.  He was  _Oliver_.  And maybe if Felicity could come up with better arguments than just contradicting whatever he said she could convince him of that.

When Oliver finally turned his head to look at her, his troubled expression made Felicity’s eyes blur.  “They need  _you_.  And I’m clearly the only one you have a problem with.  I’m just another Special Ops.  We’re a dime a dozen.”

Felicity’s laugh was full-on hysterical.  “There’s nothing about  _you_  that is a dime a dozen.” Also, _clearly_ , Oliver hadn’t seen her reaction to Lyla. 

That got Felicity a hint of a flicker of a softening.  But then Oliver shook his head, his eyes elsewhere again. “Regardless… I’m sure they can make do with four Special Ops.  It’s more important that you are on-game and—”

“Stop stop stop!”  He wasn’t listening.  Felicity needed to make him listen. “Oliver, I didn’t say I wanted you off the team.” 

Was it crazy that after all this, now that Oliver was here the idea of doing this without him seemed even more horrifying? 

Yes.  Yes, it was.  Felicity was insane.

“My presence is obviously upsetting you.”

Yes!  But  _everything_  upset her.  Little did Oliver know that Felicity had turned into a neurotic mess.

“No!  _Yes_.  I mean, I don’t know what I mean, but you don’t upset me.  Not in the way you mean.”  Except, she didn’t know how he meant it.  All Felicity  _knew_  was that  _none_  of it was Oliver’s fault.

For the first time, Oliver looked her in the eye.  And the contact was actually, physically painful.  “I saw you run away on the beach.  The message was pretty clear, Felicity.”

“Oh.”  Frak.  “You saw that?” 

Well, this was  _officially_  the most humiliating day of her life.  Her fingers fell from Oliver’s arm.  What right did Felicity have to touch him?  She leaned over, burying her head in her hands. 

“God, you must think me such a lunatic.”  And she was.  Oh, she  _was_.

“Not a lunatic.”  Oliver’s voice softened.  Of course, it did.  That was the way a sane person spoke to a  _lunatic_. 

And the way Felicity laughed in response surely proved it.  “Do you have another explanation?  My running from you like that?”  Though, really, it was as much Lyla and her baby she had been running from as Oliver, but how did she explain that?   “Like a child?  A crazy mentally-ill  _child_?”

“ _Or_  a woman forced to interact with a man she hated.”  Despite his harsh words, Oliver’s voice was gentle, forgiving. 

Felicity deserved neither.

“No!”  Her whole body was shaking by this point.  “I could  _never_  hate you, Oliver.  I…”  Felicity loved him more than her own life.  That was the whole problem.  “None of this mess is your fault.   _None_.  It’s all on me.  And you…you have every right to hate  _me_.”

It was Oliver’s turn to shake his head.  His expression was sad.  So,  _so_  sad.  “Never.”

There was no holding back tears after hearing that quiet vow.  Felicity could remember him using that same tone in very different circumstances.  And, god, how she wanted to throw herself into his arms and confess everything. 

That she still loved him.  That she had destroyed both their lives.  That more than anything she just wanted his forgiveness.  That she would do anything to make him happy again.   _Anything_.

Felicity didn’t do any of that, but she did start talking and when she did, the words wouldn’t stop.  Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to speak in the first place.  The watershed was overwhelming.

“Oliver, what you don’t understand about me, this me, this  _new_  me…is that I’m a wreck,” and Felicity sounded it the way she was talking, “a  _train wreck_  to be precise.  I behave irrationally, like running away on a beach when I wanted nothing more than to talk to you.  I’m anxious.  I have panic attacks.  I hide down in The Cave for a reason.  I’m not fit for the world.  The _real_ world.  The Cave is this bizarre little sanctuary for mad scientists and I fit in there all too well.  They barely even  _notice_  my instability.  It’s practically expected.  Hell, we barely recognize seasons down there.”

And Felicity kept talking.  The words coming faster and faster, her hands flapping.  A few more minutes and she’d take flight.

“But whatever crazy way I act, that's on me.  Not you.” Because Felicity actually had a point to this ramble.  “You’ve done nothing to deserve any of this, never mind cause it.  I’m the one that should be off the team.  I’m not fit for field work.   _Look_  at me.”  She frantically swiped at her tears, gesturing to them, to her whole body.  “We’re not even in the field yet and I’m already freaking out.

“If this were  _any_  other mission, if they didn't need me for the Mayan translation crap, they wouldn’t even let me back in the field.  I’d  _never_  pass the psych screen.  The only reason I’m here now is because they never gave me one.  They really should have screened me.  It was very irresponsible.  And, oh my god, am I still talking?  And B.T.W. my rambling has gotten much, _much_ worse.  In case you hadn’t figured that out, though I’m sure you have.”

So.  Wow…well, now he knew.

And knowing was _not_ half the battle.

Oliver just looked at her.  Did he see anything left of the girl he’d loved?  Because Felicity was pretty sure she didn’t resemble her in the slightest. 

But Oliver didn’t look shocked.  Or taken aback.  He just looked sad.  Contemplative.  But was Felicity even seeing his real emotions?  He’d probably had to learn to hide everything in his time with the Bratva.  Maybe he was as different inside as she was.

“Have I convinced yet that you’re lucky to be rid of me?” Felicity whimpered.   Maybe humiliating herself was her brain’s way of repenting her sins.  Or maybe the language center of her brain was on the fritz.  First not producing any output, then too much.  “Please, say something or I may just keep talking.”  And, really, did  _anyone_  want that?

Oliver just smiled that same sad smile.  Perhaps it was even sadder this time.  She was starting to hate that smile.  “And why are you anxious, Felicity?  What made you this way?”

“You  _know_  why,” Felicity cried, biting back a sob.  She kept wiping away the tears, but they wouldn’t stop coming.  What she wouldn’t give for a tissue.  Or a box.  To hide in.

“Tikal,” Oliver stated simply.

And Felicity nodded, because god _damn_  Tikal.  It was cursed and she wished she had never gone there and, god, she  _hated_  that place.  And now she was back in the same area of the world, when she’d vowed never to step foot here again.  She just wanted to go home.

“Where you were shot.”  Oliver actually stepped toward her and Felicity held her breath as he placed two gentle fingers over her belly.  “Here.”

“Yes,” Felicity breathed, having trouble comprehending that Oliver was touching her.   _Touching_  her.  But before she could fully wrap her mind around it, his hand was gone.

“Because of a bullet meant for me.”

It took Felicity a moment to grasp Oliver’s meaning.  Her brain was on overload.  Buffering…

When Felicity realized what he meant, she just about jumped out of her skin.  No.  No.  No.  No.  _No_!

“So, you see,” Oliver looked into Felicity’s eyes and let her see the full depth of his guilt, his misery, “it  _is_  my fault.”

Oh…oh…this couldn’t be.  Why?  Why, god?  Oliver didn’t deserve this.  She didn’t even deserve  _this_.

Oliver turned to leave and Felicity cried, “Don’t go!” 

She grabbed for his arm again but missed and her hand wound up closing around his.  It was a complete accident, but once it happened, Felicity found herself grasping his hand like a lifeline.  She never thought she’d get to hold it again, and even in these terrible circumstances, she didn’t want to let go. 

“That is  _not_  true.  Not even a little bit.”

For just a fraction of a second Oliver squeezed Felicity’s hand back, turning to look at her.

This was Felicity's chance.  She needed to tell him something,  _anything_ , that would make this better.  “Oliver, taking that bullet for you, that's the  _only_  thing about Tikal that I  _don’t_  regret.”

Oliver stepped further into Felicity’s space, his smile tipping up a bit more.  Maybe he understood, maybe she was getting through…

But if anything, his eyes were even more haunted.  Softly, Oliver murmured, “ _See_ , that's where we’re different.  Because that will always be my greatest regret.”

His hand reached up and wiped Felicity’s cheek, lingering on the wet skin, making it tingle.  “You look beautiful, by the way.  Not a mess.”  Oliver’s finger traced the rim of her glasses.  “Love these.”

There was one breathtaking moment where Felicity actually thought Oliver was going to kiss her.  At least her forehead.  The way he used to…

But then Oliver smiled one last horrible unhappy smile and turned and walked away.

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

_September 15, 2016_  
_18:59_  
_War Room_  
_ARGUS Beach House_  
_Mayan Riviera, Mexico_

They gathered at 1900 hours for their pre-mission debriefing.  ARGUS had a full War Room set up in the basement of the enormous Beach House.  Mexican Haciendas didn’t generally have basements so Felicity supposed that made this unexpected and hard to find.  Though, it must be a bitch to keep from flooding during a hurricane. 

The eleven of them, the eight-person team plus Cisco, Lyla, and Shado (and god, Felicity hoped Shado was there just to accompany Slade and not because they were anticipating needing to have a surgeon handy) gathered around the high projection table.  There were no chairs.  No one sat during strategy meetings.

Felicity always figured that it was to discourage unnecessary discussion and keep these meetings short.  There was a conference table in another room if they wanted to debate.  But tonight, time was not in high supply, since they were set to head out at the god awful hour of 0300 for Palenque.

So much for that second margarita.  And, god, how Felicity had needed it.  Though, she supposed adding alcoholism to her list of diagnoses probably wasn’t wise.

After Felicity’s  _talk_  with Oliver, she wandered down to the beach and collapsed in the sand, letting the ocean lap her feet.  She was shell-shocked and…she had known that she had ruined Oliver’s life, but she had  _no idea_. 

Just when she didn’t think it couldn’t possibly get worse, it did.  And how had she not considered… _assumed_  he would blame himself?  Felicity prided herself in knowing Oliver better than he knew himself.  She should have predicted this.

Felicity had jumped in front of him at the last possible second.  She hadn’t even paused to think.  She just did it.  It was her choice.  Oliver hadn’t had even a microsecond to react.   She didn’t remember much about that night, but she remembered  _that_.  She had relived it often enough in her nightmares.

Had Oliver been half a world away waking in a cold sweat from the same nightmare?  Blaming himself for ruining her life, just as she blamed herself for ruining his?  It was almost poetic in its synchrony.  A tragedy worthy of Shakespeare.

But now…now Felicity had to make this better for him.  Somehow convince Oliver he was blameless.  Even though she had no earthly idea how.

Everyone told her to tell Oliver the truth.  Even the people who had no idea what the truth _was_.  But now Felicity feared that the truth would only compound his guilt.  If Oliver blamed himself for her getting shot and developing  _anxiety_ , how would he feel if he knew that bullet had stolen their future, murdered their children before they could even be conceived?

Felicity  _knew_  how destructive that way of thinking was, how unhealthy.  But she  _also_  knew that Oliver would think of it exactly that way.  These last five years, this last conversation…just proved that he had guilt and self-blame down to an art form.  And he had wanted those impossible children so much.

The beach was where Caitlin finally found her and dragged her back to their room to get cleaned up and ready for this meeting.  There had been precious little time for conversation other than to let Cait know that whatever she had hoped would happen when Felicity talked to Oliver, hadn’t happened.  In fact,  _nothing_  good had happened.   

Except maybe, on the upside, Felicity was now more depressed than anxious.  Was that an upside?  It was easier to function and focus, so she supposed so.

When they had arrived in the War Room, Oliver was already there, leaning with his back against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression closed.  Felicity could see exactly what Sara and Roy were talking about.  Oliver had always had a brooding tendency, but now it looked like he’d turned that into a state of being. 

Felicity had to find some way to make this better for him.  She  _had_  to. 

She didn’t realize she was staring until Oliver turned his head abruptly, as if he could feel her eyes on him, and caught her gaze.  The intensity of the eye contact shook her, but Felicity refused to turn away.    She owed him too much to be self-indulgent in this.  She couldn’t allow him to think that she didn’t want to be near him.  Not anymore.

But Felicity was saved from a potentially prolonged staring contest by the other members of the team, as those she hadn’t seen in years came up to greet her.  Still, she could feel Oliver’s eyes on her the entire time.  It was a warmth, like a laser beam fixed on her skin.

Felicity wondered if he recognized her discomfort as she hugged Lyla, feeling her hard, distended belly pressed up against her.  Could Oliver tell that the congratulations were genuine, but the cheerfulness was forced?  There was a time when he would have known out of hand.  There was a time when Felicity wouldn’t have been able to fool anyone in this room.  That was one thing she was glad had changed.

There wasn’t a lot of time to linger before John started the meeting, which was merciful, because Felicity didn’t know how long she could maintain her composure with Oliver’s eyes following her as she tried not to stare at Lyla’s pregnant belly and cry.  

Did Oliver look at John and Lyla and imagine Oliver and Felicity in their place?  The way she couldn’t help but do?  If that bullet had been an inch to the right…would it have been?  If the Kevlar had worked?  If…?  Was Oliver running the what-if’s through his head as well?  And if he did, had the pain faded or was it still as acute as hers?

A giant map was projected onto the table and Felicity sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to clear her mind.  She pulled herself up tall and tried to focus on the task at hand. 

“All right, people,” John announced, addressing the group.  “We head out at 0300 on the dot.  Two trucks, bikes in cargo, from  _here_ ,” he pointed to the place they were on the map and drew a line from the shore to an area inland, before expanding the destination with a flick of his fingers.  “Palenque.  For those of you who don’t know…”  He sent a look to where Slade and Roy stood next to each other.

Slade just grinned unrepentantly and rocked back on his heels.  He looked even more roguish with that patch on his eye.  But poor Roy looked embarrassed, like a puppy being called out for chewing daddy’s slippers.  Poor puppy.

“Palenque is a well excavated Mayan City, a popular tourist site.  We were able to  _persuade_ ,” in other words,  _order_ , “the Mexican government to close it to tourists for just over thirty-six hours for ‘construction’.”  Digg made air quotes and it never failed to amuse Felicity when he did that.  “So we have that amount of time to get in and get out and head  _here_ …”

Digg drew another line with his finger, this time into the jungle.  “This is where we found what we believe is the Door to the Lost City of the Sun.  Then we are here,” he tapped the spot and that image increased in size, “until we figure out how to open it.”  As John finished, he raised his head to stare pointedly at Felicity.

Yes, lovely.  Just in case there was anyone there who didn’t know that this whole damn mission rested on Felicity’s ability to figure out how to open a fraken unopenable door.  A door that might not even  _be_  a door for all she knew.  Factor in her mental health and the status of her personal life and this would be a piece of cake.  Whoopee!

“And what if  _we_  can’t open it?” Sara asked.  In meetings like this, she was all business, her shoulders straight, her arms crossed.  But Felicity recognized and appreciated the support for what it was.

John shook his head.  His face impassive.  “Not an option.”

“What if there’s nothing to open?” Caitlin pipped in.  “I mean this is within striking distance of El Chichon.”  She pointed to the Volcano south-west of the site.  “There’s a very good chance that the city, assuming it existed in the first place, was wiped out by lava over two thousand years ago.”  

Crossing his arms, John straightened his shoulders. “Then we are there until we find definitive proof that is the case.”

“Look,” Lyla added, her big belly pressed against the table, a strange juxtaposition to her perfect agent demeanor.  “The best case scenario here is that we find a city completely covered in a hundred feet of volcanic rock.  If The Gift was destroyed 3000 years ago, then Darhk can’t get his hands on it.  But if there is even a  _fraction_  of a percent of a chance that it’s not…”

Lyla didn’t have to finish that sentence.  They all knew what the consequences were. 

Swallowing, Felicity raised her hand, then felt stupid for doing so and just asked, “Ummm…why are we bothering with Palenque?  I mean, if time is of the essence,” and they  _all_  knew it was, “then just take me…um,  _us_  to the door.”   The sooner she got her hands on it, the sooner Felicity would know if this was all a wild goose chase or not.

“We’re hoping that you will find some clue as to how to open the door in Palenque,” John answered, “since it has some of the best known records of Kin Cuudad and is the closest Mayan City to the site.”

“I  _know_  that,” Felicity sighed, trying not to sound irritated.  “I’ve seen them.  I’ve studied them.  It just seems…”

Like an enormous waste of time.  Also, if Felicity was supposed to be the expert here, why hadn’t she been consulted as to this plan?

“We’ve gotten you access to areas inside and under the Temple of the Sun.”  John shot Felicity a questioning look.  “Which I don’t believe you have been able to examine  _personally_  before?”

Felicity shook her head.  “No.”  But…it still didn’t seem like a prudent use of their time.  She sighed.  “What am I looking for?”

John shrugged.  “Anything you can find to open the door.”

Like a sledgehammer?  That might work.  It would destroy thousands of years of history, but it would still be a better bet than Felicity’s translating skills.

Sara scoffed.  “The door we’re not even sure  _is_  a door?”

“And that I’ve never seen before,” Felicity added, in a similarly skeptical tone, because come on, people?  She had thirty-six hours to find a key to a door she’d never seen before.  What did they think she’d say the magic word and it would appear?  Fan-fraking-tastic.  Yeah, the world was doomed.

“We  _do_  have a photograph for you.”  Lyla stepped forward and pulled out a rolled up poster sized picture, spreading it out over the map.  “No digital images exist.  We couldn’t risk it.”

Well, that was something at least.  Everyone made room for Felicity in front of the photograph.  She smoothed it out and leaned over to examine it.  She had to say, it certainly looked true to the time period.

There was the familiar image of Kinich Ahau, the Mayan Sun God, carved in stone and flanked by two jaguars, his favorite companions.  Below that was a large intricate design of the sun, carved deep into the stone.  There were odd indentations scattered throughout the carving, smooth and deep, maybe from jade or other stones that had weathered and fallen out throughout the centuries.  But it wasn’t like anything Felicity had seen before.  Under the sun there seemed to be a carved scene but it was cut off, out of frame of the photograph.

Felicity looked up at Lyla.  “This isn’t the full picture.”  Why the hell would they cut it off?

John leaned over to look.  Lyla really couldn’t, what with her enormous belly in the way, but Digg answered for his wife anyway.  “That’s because the rest is underground.  They didn’t want to raise any suspicion by bringing in a team to excavate the site further.”

Great.  Felicity sighed.  “I’ll need to see…everything.  Plus, doors tend to need to be cleared to open.  Otherwise…stuck.” 

Then, before the CO could respond to her sarcasm, Caitlin gave a small smile and turned to Curtis, “Looks like we get to play Archaeologist.”

“Cool!  Indiana Jones and Alan Grant all in one trip!”  Curtis grinned widely and offered his hand for a high-five from Cait, who indulged him in her own dignified way.

It was a good thing  _someone_  was enthused.  “Make sure there are some good shovels on the truck,” Felicity told John, then looked over the others, her eyes lingering on Oliver…particularly those massive arms of his.  “Some Special Ops muscle will probably be needed as well.”

Oliver met her gaze and for a second it felt like she was the only one he saw. “That won’t be a problem,” he said and Felicity couldn’t imagine that it would be.  Muscle certainly wasn’t something he lacked.

But then Slade pulled her attention away, adding, “Not at all.”  He shoulder-bumped poor Roy.  “That what the new kid is for.”

Felicity took a deep breath, even that small interaction with Oliver had her jumpy.  There was something about looking into his eyes, bluer than she remembered…okay, job here.  An important job.  Focusing now.

She forced herself to examine the photograph further.  The main carvings were surrounded by hieroglyphics, every available inch covered, some of them were tiny and incredibly intricate.  “I’ll need a good magnifier,” Felicity added, while she was on a roll for demands.  “I normally use my tablet, but if you don’t want any digital images…”

To that, John gave her a mischievous smile, even adding an eyebrow waggle for good measure.  “With that, I’ll turn this over to our Engineers.  Curtis, Cisco, I hear you have some goodies for us?”

“All right!”  Curtis stepped forward first, rubbing his hands together with a gleeful look Felicity knew only too well.  “First up: for illuminating all those dark underground spaces, I present to you, the  _Illumnisphere_.” He held a two-inch metal sphere in his palm, kinda C3PO colored, and lifted it up as if it were the holy Grail.  “With a battery life of a hundred  _thousand_  hours, this baby will completely illuminate any enclosed space.”

It was a lot of drama for a fancy flashlight.  But then, Curtis pressed a button with his thumb and light flooded the dim room.

“Whoa!” someone said and Felicity thought it might have been Roy, but her eyes were busy adjusting as the basement went from a dimly lit secret hideout to as bright as the beach at high noon.

“You will notice that it is not too harsh on the eyes, while still adequately lighting the entire space.  Perfect for translating in those dark underground spaces.”  Curtis wagged his eyebrows at Felicity, but all she could think was that was good, since translating in dark underground spaces had the potential for triggering debilitating flashbacks. 

When he finished his presentation, Curtis turned to Cisco, leveling him with a changeling look and a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah.  Yeah.  The glow ball is awesome.  Even better than the one I got out of the gum ball machine at Walmart.  It’s my turn now.”  Cisco pushed in front of Curtis with a swagger of his own.  It seemed being in the field just escalated their antics.  “ _Tada_!”

He held a compact… _device_ …in his hand.  And, honestly, Felicity had no idea what that thing was.  And with Cisco’s loooong dramatic pause she wasn’t sure if she’d ever know.   Maybe she should try to reign them in a bit?

“Cool,” Curtis finally threw into the silence, sounding anything but impressed.  “That  _thing_  looks like it will be  _super helpful_  in the field.  Where you will  _not_  be—”

Cisco shot him a withering look and pressed a button.  The… _thing_  sprang open with such speed and violence Felicity jumped back. 

“May I present, the most  _advanced,_ the most _innovative_  reverb bow known to man.”  Sometimes, Cisco said things as if we're the announcer at a wrestling contest between real-life alien superstars.  Usually, it was to an audience of his Funko Pop collection, but he seemed to be enjoying performing to actual people.

But, despite the…Cisco-ness of it all, it was one damn beautiful bow and he was handing it to a stunned Oliver.  Felicity had to bite her lip to hide her smile.  Was it bizarre that she felt this warm rush of pride as Cisco placed the bow in his strong hand?  She didn’t even know what _she_ had to be proud of, but for some reason the moment made her emotional.

Oliver turn the bow over in his hands.  “It’s incredible, but…” He looked up, his forehead furrowed.  “Why am I taking a bow?  I haven’t used one for anything but sport in…forever.”

 That made Felicity sad too, because he was so good with a bow and arrow.  And it gave him such joy.

 “If we get through the—”

“— _when_ ,” Lyla corrected her husband.

“ _When_ we get through the door,” John agreed.  “We’ll likely be in tunnels that haven’t been used in centuries, possibly millennia.  We can’t risk fire-arms.”

Felicity had a flash of gunfire ricocheting off limestone walls, crumbling…she shook herself.  That was…a really  _really_  good idea.  Too bad they hadn’t considered it five years ago.

“You may be our best bet,” John told Oliver and the men looked at each other in a way that had Felicity thinking they were communicating more than what their words said.  “Which is why if things go south, it’s your job to protect Overwatch and fulfill the main objective.”

Felicity’s eyes flew from John to Oliver and he caught her gaze, holding it trapped with a hard, determined look.  This was way too much to process.  She hadn’t even begun when Oliver broke their brief, but intense, eye contact and looked back at John, nodding decisively as he adjusted his grip on the bow.  “Yes, sir.  Absolutely.”

Okay.  Wow.  And Felicity didn’t even get the impression that Oliver was upset about being saddled with her.  Actually, she got the  _distinct_ impression that he was being asked to do _exactly_ what he had planned on doing all along.  Protecting her. 

It thrilled and confused her.  Made her feel safe and terrified.  Felicity had that feeling again, that something important was happening, like a premonition, but this time it wasn’t followed by that same sense of doom.  So…that was good, right?

Cisco plopped a green camouflage duffel bag on the table next to the photograph of the door and pulled it open.  “You’ve got stun arrows here.  Poison arrows.  Repulsor arrows.  I’ve got some awesome explosive arrows, but given the circumstances—”

“I’d like them just in case,” Oliver interrupted, in the tone of a man who knew to expect the unexpected.

“Then you’ve got them,” Cisco replied with a grin, seeming happy with his answer.  “Even my ordinary arrows are extraordinary.  In precision, distance, and speed.”

“Be you ever so humble,” Caitlin muttered and Curtis nodded his agreement, adding an eye-roll.

“What about the rest of us?” Sara broke in.  “If we’re avoiding fire-arms—”

“Swords, baby!” Slade announced, sounding thrilled with this plan.

Sara rolled her eyes.  “Swords and a bow-staff are great close up, but that won’t always be practical.  And my knives have killer precision, but I can only hold so many.”  Even if that number  _was_  just shy of 30.

It also left Felicity, Caitlin, and Curtis to rely on Special Ops for protection.  They could all shoot pretty well, but hand-to-hand or knife to sword…not their forte.

But Curtis stepped forward, saying, “That’s where I come in.  Or back in.  Cisco, here, made an awesome weapon for  _one_  of us.  I figured someone better cover the other  _seven_.”

“Put your money where your mouth is _, Mr. Terrific_ ,” Cisco mocked, stepping back.

Curtis pulled out a large weapons case and opened it.  He completely ignored Cisco.  He  _was_  the more mature of the two.  God help them all. 

“Special Ops will all be issued tranq guns as well as regular firearms.”  Curtis held out the gun for them to look over.  “One hit will take down an elephant. Two direct hits  _will_  kill someone.” He then pulled out a thin device. “And for the rest of us, the old fashioned pen dart.” Pushing the button on the end, Curtis sent it flying past Cisco’s head and embedding it in the wall behind him.  “Ohhh yeah.”

Cisco jumped, his long hair whipping around him. “What the hell, man!”

Curtis laughed maniacally at Cisco’s expression and Caitlin grinned, stating smugly, “Those will take down a small horse.”

“Courtesy of our lovely Bio-engineer,” Curtis offered, gesturing to Caitlin with exaggerated chivalry.  “It will take 3-4 hits of this to kill someone, depending on their size.”  He clapped Cisco on the shoulder in lieu of apology.

“Okay, Q, step aside.  Not even James Bond is impressed with a  _pen dart_  anymore.” Cisco brushed Curtis’ hand away.   “It’s time for the piece de resistance.  For our Lovely Overwatch.”  Opening a much smaller case, Cisco pulled out a pair of glasses and handed them to Felicity. 

She took them and turned them over in her hands, confused.  They looked exactly like the ones she was wearing.  She didn’t want to disappoint Cisco or look like she was choosing sides, but… 

Felicity took her old pair off and put on the new glasses, since that was what everyone appeared to expect.  Still, they seemed exactly the same.  “Umm…you got the prescription right?” 

The corner of Cisco’s lips tipped up, though, so Felicity knew he must have something amazing planned.  The man wasn’t a genius for nothing.  “Pull up the controls on your watch.”

Felicity turned over her wrist and browsed through the controls on her state of the art ARGUS issue smart watch.  It was the best in the world.  She  _had_  helped develop it.  If Cisco had hacked into her watch she must really be off her game, though.  Scrolling past the apps, she found the new one easily.

“These will function as your magnifying glasses,” Cisco explained as she flipped through the controls.  “As binoculars.  As night vision goggles.  They can sense caverns in solid rock, have a heat sensor and, when in range of an ARGUS satellite, can send images back to base.  Only at your command, of course.” 

Wow.  Just wow.  Felicity had a new favorite toy.

Cisco took advantage of the impressed silence and turned to Curtis, throwing up his hands in triumph.  “Bam!  Take that, Mr. I’m-a-Triathlete-So-I-Get-To-Go-Into-the-Field!”

Felicity had no desire to reprimand his antics, since…well, they  _may_  just be deserved. 

“Cisco, this is incredible!” Felicity breathed, flipping through the various settings until she landed on the magnifier and leaning over the table to examine the photograph of the Mayan hieroglyphs more closely.

Conversation started to flow.  Congratulations and ribbings.  Questions on how things worked, but Felicity was completely engrossed on the patterns as she started to recognize them.  Just like riding a bike.  Or writing code, as her case may be.

At one point, Felicity heard Digg say, “Coms in your ears,” because that was John’s You-Damn-Well-Better-Listen-To-Me tone and that wasn’t easily forgotten either.  “And ARGUS Watches on your arms at all times, people.  No exceptions.”

But then the translations started to click in Felicity’s mind.  She got in the zone and the glyphs started to tell a story.  The hieroglyphics above the carving of the Sun King…her heart rate started to accelerate.

“Through these doors lie the House of the Glorious Kinich Ahau, God of the Sun.  Enter only his true and righteous servants,” Felicity read, almost breathless. “Home of the Brave Children of the Sun.  Enemies will surely perish.”

When Felicity finished her whispered recitation, she could hear a pin drop.  Every person in the room was completely focused on her.  And it didn’t even bother her. 

Lifting her eyes to John, Felicity murmured, “Oh my god.  This is real.”

For the first time, she didn’t think about Oliver or the past or how hard it was to be there.   Instead, Felicity thought about what this  _actually_ meant.  And not just the doom and gloom, keep it from HIVE stuff.

Felicity had spent a year of her life immersed in the history of Kin Cuudad.  No one could do that and not come to love every aspect of it.  Once upon a time, she’d longed for the Lost City to be real.  Passionately.  She wanted to walk its streets and hold its treasures.  She knew everything there was to know about the Lost City.  Everything the  _modern world_  knew, anyway.  But  _this_  was something new.   She might very well have the opportunity to learn something forgotten millennia ago.

“I assume you’ve had this carbon-dated?” Felicity asked, because she had to check.

Lyla nodded.  “If it’s a hoax, it’s a twenty-three-thousand-year-old one.”

Felicity nodded, swallowing.  Oh wow.  “And you found this…”

“In the jungle, embedded in a hill, under three-feet of vegetation,” John answered.

“So it would open into the ground?”  Felicity asked, imagining it. 

John shrugged.  “One would assume.” 

It made sense.  The Mayans loved their underground tunnels.  This could very possibly be a secret entrance to the City.  Who knew if anything was still standing on the other side, but… this  _alone_  was an incredible discovery.  And if something  _was_  still standing…

“So, even if the volcano did erupt and destroy Kin Cuudad, who knows what could be preserved in a cavern under the jungle,” Felicity mused out loud, the excitement building.  “There could be entire structures.  Two-thousand-year-old structures!  Untouched by man or by history.  The knowledge that could trapped down there…the Mayans were forebringers of Science and Geometry and Astronomy…did you know that they believed that the gods were extraterrestrials.  The Gift could actually be some Alien Tech…what?”

There were ten pairs of eyes staring at her (well, nine and half with Slade).    Like a magnet, Felicity’s eyes found Oliver’s and saw him looking at her with a crooked smile and fondness in his eyes.

“There’s our girl!” Slade announced, leaning over to clap a hand on her back, breaking the silence.  “Welcome back, love.”

Caitlin and Sara’s smiles widened.  Oliver tipped down his head and looked at her from under his lashes, his eyes smiling and…

Suddenly, Felicity felt…for the first time in  _years,_  she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.  Surrounded by people who would do anything to support and protect her, excited by a ground breaking project…she felt  _alive_.

And for the first time in five years, three months, and eleven days, Felicity didn’t feel empty.

 

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

_September 16, 2016_  
_07:19_  
_Palenque Ruins, Mexico_

Felicity jerked awake as the truck came to a stop.  She blinked her eyes open, grabbing for the glasses she’d hooked onto her t-shirt.  Cramming them back onto her face, she tried to gauge how much time had passed and failed.  The sun was now out which was a clue and, leaning over to the window, she saw that they were at the gate to the national park.  She must have slept all the way to Palenque.

It wasn’t surprising given that she had been up studying the photo of (hopefully) the Door to Kin Cuudad, until her eyes blurred and she couldn’t discriminate the symbols any longer.  By then, it was almost time to leave, so no point trying to sleep.  Felicity had just double checked her gear and got herself ready.

And promptly passed out as soon as the truck started to move.  But sleeping for a four-hour car ride was actually pretty damn good rest for a mission like this.

And bonus…between the excitement over the Door, and the exhaustion that followed, there had been no time to obsess over Oliver or her memories of Tikal.

“Morning, sleepy-head,” Sara called from the front seat, not sounding tired at all, though Felicity was certain she had been awake and alert the entire trip.

Felicity yawned and smiled at her friend, who was, quite literally, sitting shotgun in front of her, a very high tech version of said shot-gun across her lap, ever vigilant.  Even though they were in armor plated trucks designed to look like construction vehicles.

The boys, save Curtis, were in the larger truck, the one that held the dirt-bikes and the big equipment.  Curtis drove.  He was still smiling,  _still_ looking like he had a full night’s rest.  Lord, did that man ever run out of energy?  Sometimes it was exhausting just looking at him.

“Wake up the other one, will you?” Sara called behind her.  “We’re here.”

Stretching, Felicity leaned over and gently shook Caitlin awake.

“What?  Where’s the coffee?” 

Cait woke with a start and even Felicity chuckled, though not as much as Sara, who twisted to look over the back of the seat, telling her, “You’ve gotten soft, Princess.  There’s no Jitters here.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.  There may be no Jitters but wait until you see the Field -ready French Press I’ve come up with.  Ya hear me?”  Curtis twisted around and presented his fist for Caitlin to, gratefully, if sluggishly, bump.  “I  _know_  what my girls need.”

Felicity laughed, enjoying the easy comradery that felt so natural.  She also wouldn’t say no to french press right now.  Curtis didn’t play when it came to their caffeine fix.

The truck moved forward again, through the gates of the park.  When they finally pulled into their final destination, they climbed out and…

The humidity immediately hit Felicity in the face. 

The humidity.  The green grass and the blue sky and the white-grey limestone temples looming.  The smell of the nearby jungle, fruit and flowers and rot.  Felicity turned, taking it all in.  She regretted it immediately and had to put a hand on the truck to steady herself as a wave a dizziness washed over her.

The confidence of the last few hours evaporated, replaced by a flood of memories, more sensations than anything else. 

Felicity looked for Cait…she was hugging herself, her face bleach white as she stared, unseeingly, at the ruins.  Oliver had his hands clenched at his hips, his knuckles white, his eyes distant, his face looking like it could have been carved from the same limestone that surrounded them.

Curtis was smiling and Roy looked nervous, yet excited, but the others…Sara, John, even Slade…their eyes were all haunted.

Felicity knew they were all thinking the same thing.  The buildings may be rearranged, but in all other ways this could be Tikal.  And the last time this team stood in the middle of Mayan ruins, on a bright summer day, half of them had been air-lifted out on life support and one of them had never woken up.

And just like Tikal, there was a damn good chance that none of them would ever be the same again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional pictures and maps for this chapter[ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/166544522865/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-3)
> 
>  
> 
> So the adventure begins. I’m so excited to be moving past the exposition into the heart of the story.
> 
> Palenque (pronounced like Polenta, the Italian dish, but with a ‘k’ instead of a ‘t’) and the volcano, El Chichon, are real places you can visit, with miles of rainforest between them.  Kin Cuudad and the Gift, are all mine.
> 
> So,  **Fairytalehearts**  yelled at me after Oliver walked away from Felicity in this, all caps, 36 font, bring yellow. Feel free to do the same if you like. :-D But I (**hides**) actually think our heroes communicated…okay considering the circumstances. This will be a slow, careful road back together. And there was hope in this chapter, right? ***Roy’s puppy-dog eyes.***
> 
> Thank you so much to my wonderful and thoughtful betas  **fairytalehearts**  and  **ireland1733**. And also thank you soooo much to everyone who has taken the time to comment and kudo. I haven’t been responding as much as I would like to (I always assume that readers would prefer I work on the next chapter before I respond to comments). Please, do keep them coming, they make all the sweat and tears worthwhile.
> 
> You can also find me at:  
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	5. Chapter 4: Palenque, Mexico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: PTSD, infertility issues, and descriptions of violence. Buckle up, this one is a bumpy ride.
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

 

_September 16, 2016_  
_11:14_  
_Temple of the Sun_  
_Palenque Ruins, Mexico_

 

The gorgeous and complex Mayan fresco covered an entire wall of the Temple of the Sun.  And it looked...

_Exactly_ the same as it had six years ago. 

It depicted the most complete history known to the modern world of Kin Cuudad, the City of the Sun, now referred to as the  _Lost_  City of the Sun.  Felicity had examined, analyzed, and picked it apart over a hundred of times.  And the only conclusion she could come to, now, was…she probably could have recreated it at home, she remembered it so well.  Or on the  _way_  to the Door, which would have been a better use of their time. 

The fresco told the story of Palenque’s creation.  Not of its greatest leader, Pacal, the king who everyone knew and remembered.   No, this was the story of their first king, Cadmeal.  He was depicted as a direct descendant of Kinich Ahau, the Sun God himself, the child of a woman they called the Child of the Sun and a man whose name roughly translated to the Warrior King or the Sun Warrior.

According to the story told here, the Sun God and the Lord of the Underworld fought over the great city, each claiming it as their own, raining down fire and brimstone (possibly literally. It was widely believed that this was a volcano) on Kin Cuudad.  In the center of the fresco, Kinich Ahau reached down amongst the destruction and lifted the young prince out and delivered him to the site they were sitting now, where Cadmeal built the great city of Palenque.

Given all the Sun God had done for them, one would think that this temple would be the center of the city, its greatest tribute, but it was dwarfed by the Temple of Inscriptions, the tomb of King Pacal, the ruler who had, centuries later, brought Palenque to the pinnacle of greatness in the Mayan world.

So this incredible fresco was buried on a back wall of this small- _er_  temple.  Though, even without it, this would be Felicity’s favorite spot in Palenque.  The walls inside the temple were built in what looked, at first glance, to be strange angles, but actually allowed in rays of sunlight that created patterns which marked the most important days of Mayan life, Summer Solstice and the Fall Equinox, when to plant and when to harvest.

The geometry and the science were beautiful in their eloquence and masterful in their execution.

But elegant or not, there was nothing about a key.  Hell, there wasn’t anything about a  _Door_.  As far as this particular history was concerned, Kin Cuudad was gone for good.  Wiped off the face of the Earth.

“Cait, tell me you me you’ve found something,” Felicity called out, frustrated, as she pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead.  Damn humidity was as bad as she remembered. 

While Felicity studied the fresco and Sara and Curtis worked to leverage out the false floor that led to the belly of the temple (someplace Felicity had never stepped foot in before and, therefore, the reason for this little detour to Palenque), Caitlin used a scanner programmed with an algorithm Felicity had developed to analyze any other hieroglyphs in the temple to see if there were any additional clues to Kin Cuudad.  It was a long shot, but no stone left unturned and all that.

“Define ‘something’?’”  Caitlin called back, making Felicity groan.

“Is there a definition I could give where the answer would be ‘yes’?”

“Ummmm.  Do you want to know about the wonder of the world that is corn?”

“Ooo  _corn_ ,” Curtis called out before Felicity had a chance to answer.  “Corn is rather wonderful.  Tasty.  Anyone else hungry?”

Hysterical.  Really.  Just what she needed.  “Didn’t we just eat?” Felicity gripped, using her glasses to scan the fresco for any hidden crevices.

“ _No_ , Felicity,” Curtis and Caitlin replied together, in perfect synchrony, with the same long-suffering tone.  Felicity just rolled her eyes.  Just because  _she_  wasn’t a bottomless pit like the rest of them…

“Well, it will have to wait,” Sara called out, interrupting the bickering.  “I think we finally have this.  Curtis?” 

Felicity heard a creak and a loud grinding noise as the stone gave way and she leaned around the wall to watch Curtis and Sara leverage the slab free.   Triathlete or not, Curtis was short of breath and sweating by the time they were done.  Of course, it was 90 something degrees in here with a similar humidity.

One would have thought that Digg would have left them with say…one or two of the men with tree-trunk arms, but there wasn’t much room in the temple, so the CO had decided they could make do with three scientists and their most ‘compact’ Special Ops, while the others set up camp and secured the parameter.

Secretly, Felicity felt that Digg was making sure she was only left in close quarters with the people she felt most comfortable with and that thought caused guilt to flare as she watched Sara and Curtis struggle with the enormous stone floor.  If she was more together, they may have been given a more appropriate job, while Oliver and Slade dealt with the two-ton limestone slab. 

“You guys okay?” Felicity asked, leveraging herself up to her feet.

They leaned the heavy stone against the back wall and Sara stood, stretching her back and shoulders.  “Easy peasy,” she smiled, brushing the dust off her calloused hands.

Curtis, on the other hand…poor guy, was bent over double, huffing.  “Yeah.  Easy...” he broke off in a coughing fit, “peasy.”  Then, when he tried to stand up, he banged his head on the ceiling.  “Ow!”

“You’re going to have to get used to crouching, Curtis,” Caitlin told him sympathetically.  “The typical Mayan wasn’t as tall as you.”

“ _Now_  you tell me?” he grumbled, rubbing his head through his frizzier than usual mop.  Felicity would have thought that Curtis’ hair created enough of a cushion to protect him from the usual bumps and bruises.

“You want me to find a rope ladder, Felicity?” Sara asked, leaning over and squinting down into the dark hole as Felicity joined her at the edge.  A deep black cavity in the ground.  Lovely.   “I don’t  _see_  any steps but...hey, Curtis…?”

“Way ahead of you.”  Grinning, Curtis pulled out one of his spheres, pressed the button, and tossed it into the hole, illuminating the space. 

Thank goodness.  Felicity breathed a sigh of relief as the shadows disappeared.

Sara whistled.  “That glow ball’s  _pre-tty_  nice.”

“It’s an Illumni—”

“Whatever,” she brushed off, making Felicity smile despite it all.  Sara sat down at the edge of the opening, her feet dangling in as she examined the chamber more closely.  “Nope.  Definitely no steps.  Felicity?”

Felicity crouched at the edge and peered down, considering her options.  She hated rope ladders.  She was just too damn uncoordinated to use them properly.  “Twelve feet, you think?”  At Sara’s nod Felicity sat on the edge and pushed off.  Easy peasy.

“ _Felicity_!” Curtis squeaked.

“I wasn’t always a Cave Geek, Curtis,” Felicity called up after landing cleanly, standing and brushing off her hands.  Digg and Oliver had taken great care to make sure she knew how to land on her feet.  And it was easier to manage (and less humiliating) than a damn rope ladder.  “Cait?”

“On my way.”

Caitlin dropped down next to her and Curtis, “Eep”ed.   _Lord_.  Slade was going to have a field day with him.  But to his credit, Curtis cleared his throat and asked, “You guys need any help down there?”

"There's not a lot of room.”  Felicity looked up to see Curtis pout and restrained herself from rolling her eyes.  Field work was still all flash and glory for him.  She missed those days.  “But your illumin—ball thing is awesome,” she placated.  And it was.  Lit up every nook and cranny, made it a lot less claustrophobic.  “This would have helped in Tikal,” she muttered to Caitlin.

But all she got in response was a nod and a frown, leaving Felicity to wonder if Caitlin was going to a dark place.  But they were both professionals and the sooner they finished, the sooner they could get out of there, so they got to work searching the…box.  Because that’s what it was.  A deep, wide box.

There were what looked like four tombs against one wall. Completely unadorned stone boxes, which meant they probably weren’t royalty.  Priests, maybe?  Felicity had no desire to see 3000-year-old corpses, even if she  _could_  open them.  She’d need muscle if she wanted to try, so she’d worry about that later.

While Felicity and Caitlin searched for hieroglyphics…frescoes…carvings… _anything_ , Sara dangled her feet from the ceiling and made the occasional sarcastic comment, usually directed at Curtis, who must be lying on the floor of the temple.  All Felicity could see was his head and his ridiculous hair and his hands forever in motion, as they stuck out over the entrance, twelve feet up.

Curtis kept up a running commentary, peppered with ‘helpful’ suggestions.  It became increasingly annoying as Felicity grew more and more frustrated.  It wasn’t that she was expecting to find a huge skeleton key with a sun etched into it, but there was… _nothing_.

Not a single carving.  No hieroglyphic to translate.  No communications of any kind.  It was basically an empty box. 

Why bother building it, if they weren’t going to use it?  It must have held  _something_ at some point.  Of course, there had been millennia for it to be emptied out.  Maybe that skeleton key had gone with them? 

Or maybe the Mayans had just used it to store corn.

Finally, after searching every square inch, Felicity turned to Cisco’s clever glasses and spent another half-hour reexamining the blank stone walls, first looking for air-pockets where something may be hidden.  When that resulted in nothing, she tried the infra-red setting.  Again… _nothing_.  Such a fraking waste of time.

"This reminds me of the time—”

“Curtis!   _So_ , not helpful right now,” Felicity snapped, pushing back the sweaty dusty disgusting mess that was falling out of her ponytail.  Why had she even bother straightening it?

“Upp, Cranky!Felicity!   You know what time it is?” Curtis sang and if Felicity had something to throw at him (preferably something large and painful) she would have. 

But then, Curtis appeared with an ARGUS issue energy bar and her water bottle and Felicity grudgingly held out her hands for both.  They could use a break anyway.

“Is this a thing?” Sara asked, intelligent eyes taking in the scene.  “A food thing?”

“Yup,” again Curtis and Caitlin spoke together, making Felicity scowl.  Had they always been this annoying?  And why did they only ever seem to be on the same page when they were trying to irritate her?

“Felicity needs to be fed,” Curtis explained.  “She wouldn’t remember otherwise.”

Grunting, Felicity snapped, “I’m not a dog,” then preceded to open her energy bar with her teeth.  She pushed back the impulse to growl at him.

“Unless it’s ice cream,” Cait added.  “She never forgets her ice cream.”

Felicity decided to ignore the conversation and hope it went away.  She sat against the wall and drank her water.  Maybe she  _was_  starting to feel a little better, not that she’d ever admit it.  She closed her eyes chewed, trying to block them out.

“So this is a new thing?”

“Felicity didn’t always forget to eat?”

Blocking them out wasn’t easy.  Unfortunately. 

“She used to feed  _us_ ,” Sara explained.  As if Felicity wasn’t  _right_  there. Three feet from Caitlin.  Trapped in a stone box.   “She was a total mom.”

“I’m right here,” Felicity muttered.  Loudly.  Not opening her eyes.

_Had_  she been the mom of the group?  Felicity hadn’t thought so, but she  _did_  try to make sure her team was healthy and cared for.  She supposed she had been kind of…nurturing.  Whole lot of good that did her now.  Any mom instincts she had were a complete waste. 

Felicity squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, anything to stop thinking about  _that_.  The food and water helped.  She was starting to feel calmer and clearer.

Then Curtis’ big dumb face appeared again and he blew it all to hell.

“So this was a bust.  I know what will make us feel better.  A little gossip, huh, huh?”

Seriously. Felicity loved Curtis, but what the  _hell_  was wrong with him?

“So…Felicity…?”

Aw damn.  Really?  Wasn’t her body language clear enough?  Didn’t it scream ‘Leave me alone!’

“What’s going on with Mr. Tall-Gorgeous and Dangerous?”

He was just trying to be cute, Felicity reminded herself.  Curtis has no idea what he was doing.  He meant no harm.  It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember, however, so she repeated it twice more.

Felicity clenched her teeth and climbed to her feet, pleading, “ _Please_ , stop calling him that.”  She dusted herself off, even though it would take a power washer to remove the dust and grime at this point.

Was there anything else worth examining down here or should they call it a day?  There were other spots in Palenque that were worth a look.  Possibly.

“Will you tell us if I do?” Curtis wheedled.  He was such a child.  One who had no idea what he was playing at.

“Frak off, Curtis,” Felicity gritted out, trying to strike a balance between over-the-top-pissed-off and a simple don’t-mess-with-me.  Though, if he kept pushing he was  _going_  to feel her wrath, whether she liked it or not.  It was hot, they were going nowhere, and she wasn’t telling this… _pest_ anything.

“You wound me,” Curtis groaned with a melodramatic hand over his heart. 

He still didn’t get it.  Really.  Truly.

Curtis  _did_  seem to understand that Felicity’s lips were sealed, though, because he turned to Sara.  “You were there all those years ago.  You must know something.  How did true love go south?”

Felicity shared a look with Caitlin, who looked like she was about ready to rip Curtis a new one, all Felicity needed to do was say the word.   But Felicity just shook her head and sighed, not really wanting a scene.  This would be an awful place to have a panic attack.  Thankfully, all she was feeling right then was irritated.  She’d like to keep it that way.

Sara shrugged.  “Don’t look at me.  Felicity and Mr. Tall-Gor—no, sorry, can’t use the name.  Even if it does annoy Felicity.  It just makes me cringe.”

That made Felicity chuckle, which was amazing in and of itself.  She supposed this was becoming the new normal.  She didn’t know what she expected when her old friends and the new ones collided, but it was interesting to say the least. 

Instead of addressing their nonsense, Felicity went to check out the tombs.  Maybe she should give them more attention.

“Felicity and  _Ollie_ ,” Sara said, emphasizing her personal nick-name for Oliver and not Curtis’, “walked into the Temple of the Great Jaguar all heart eyes and pink fluffy unicorns and walked out,” she gestured helplessly, “just over.”

So they were still talking about this, huh?  Looking up, Felicity leveled Sara a stare from 12 feet below.  “Sara, you and I didn’t walk out of anywhere.  We were airlifted out unconscious.”  

Because this wasn’t a cute little anecdote.  It wasn’t  _gossip_.  This was the worst night of their lives and Felicity wasn’t going to pretend it wasn’t.

“Point,” Sara conceded.

“Actually,” Caitlin broke in, her voice strangely heavy, her stare blank as she leaned against the wall.  “Felicity, Oliver carried you out of the Temple.  And, um, Sara, I helped Slade get you out.  Normally, he could have done it by himself, of course.  But…the red lightning…his skin…”  She gestured to the right side of her face, her hand trembling.  “He seemed to be in a lot of pain.”

Felicity froze where she was crouched next to a tomb and…she couldn’t seem to do more than stare at Caitlin.  She’d never…she… 

“You never told me,” Felicity breathed.

Caitlin gave a weak shrug, her eyes troubled, almost lost, as she sank down to sit on the ground.  “You didn’t want to talk about it.  I didn’t want to talk about it…”

Felicity had no idea what to say to that.  Other than to acknowledge that it was true.  She had spent enormous amounts of energy actively avoiding talking about that night.

Then there was a loud thud and Felicity was saved from having to do anything by Sara, who crouched in front of Cait and laid a hand on her shoulder, whispering, “You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to.”

A single tear slipped over Cait’s eyelashes, leaving a dusty trail down her cheek and she gave a shaky smile.  “I think…I think I want to.”  Then her eyes flicked over to Felicity.  “That is if you—?”

“You should talk if you want to.   If it helps, then I can…I mean, I  _want_  to hear,” Felicity babbled, trying to find the right thing to say, the thing that would help Caitlin the most.  Though she wasn’t sure she  _did_  want to hear.  She wasn’t sure at all. 

But at the same time…Felicity’s mind was already fixated on the image of Oliver carrying her out of that massive temple. 

It would have been night by then.  Had there been any light at all? Felicity couldn’t remember if there was a moon that night.   Had they both been covered in blood?  Had he been crying?  He never would have shown it, but he must have been so scared.

When Caitlin started to talk again, it felt like a slap, snapping her away from one horrible image and giving her other.

“Lyla helped support Digg and he managed to limp halfway out before he collapsed,” Caitlin continued, her voice empty.  “We…um… _Oliver_ had to go back for him.  He was really the only one who could.  He, uh…” Cait turned her eyes to Felicity again.  “He really didn’t want to leave you, but we couldn’t leave Digg inside, so…so I held your wound…”

Caitlin’s voice cracked and she stopped to take a deep breath as Felicity’s feet collapsed under her and she landed with a plop on the hard dirt.

“I held your wound while we waited for the helicopter.  Though Oliver was back long before it arrived.  It barely felt like he was gone a second.  I have no idea how he got out of those tunnels so fast, carrying a 200lb man on his back no less…but he did.  And I’ll never forget the look on his face…” Meeting Felicity’s eyes, Caitlin told her, “It was like he was certain you would die the moment you were out of his sight.”

Felicity pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, but it didn’t stop the sob from escaping.  There was another thunk and then Curtis was in front of her, stumbling and falling to his knees.

“ _Now_  how are we going to get out of here, you big dumb idiot?” Sara drawled, her arm around Caitlin, a patronizing look leveled on Curtis.

“Ohhh, ah…” Curtis blinked, looking up at the hole above him, well out of reach.

“It’s okay,” Felicity murmured, reaching out her hand to him.  “She’s just playing with you.”  Curtis looked over at Sara and she winked back. “You can boost one of us out.  And if that doesn’t work…” Felicity tapped her ear.

“Comms.  Right.”  Curtis relaxed, a small smile back on his face, though this one was more empathetic than anything, and Felicity pulled on his hand until he sat next to her, holding tight as she gestured for Caitlin to continue.

“Right,” Caitlin took her cue, blowing out a breath.  “The helicopter came and took you two, since you were the worst off…of those who were, you know, _alive_.”  Her tears were falling freely now.  “Oliver had a hard time letting go but, well, he couldn’t fit in the copter and…and someone needed to go back…we… _I_  didn’t want a stranger to go back for Ronnie, so I asked and...he just went.”

Of course, he did.  Oliver would never have left Ronnie there, even if it  _was_  too late to save him.  God, Felicity didn’t know if she could stand much more of this story.  How did Caitlin live with it?  How did she function with these memories?  She was stronger than Felicity had realized.

“It took Oliver a lot longer than it had when he went for Digg.  A  _lot_  longer.  Maybe because he didn’t have Felicity to rush back for or because Ronnie was deep inside the chamber whereas Digg was half-way out, but I…part of the tunnel had collapsed and I kept thinking…fearing…what if it collapsed with Oliver in there?  What if I’d just sent him back to die?  After everything—?”

“But you didn’t,” Sara insisted, her voice firm.  “Oliver is  _fine_.”

Physically, maybe.  But Felicity knew he was anything but  _fine_.  Hadn’t been in a longtime.  But that wasn’t Caitlin’s fault.  Felicity wanted to comfort her, but her throat had closed up.  To tell her, if anything, having a task, doing something for his friend’s wife in the wake of the tragedy…probably helped Oliver. But all Felicity could manage was a (hopefully) reassuring smile when Caitlin looked at her and reached out her free hand for her friend to grab.

“No, he made it,” Caitlin agreed, her hand squeezing Felicity’s.  “Oliver brought me Ronnie and I’ll always be  _so_  grateful.”  She turned her face into Sara’s shoulder as the tears really started to pour.

There was a beat of silence where all Felicity had was her churning stomach and her ricocheting thoughts.  Then Curtis spoke, “I’m so sorry.  I promise, no more flippant jokes about five years ago.”  He crossed his heart with his finger and Felicity almost smiled.  “Clearly, I was wrong about it being gossip.”

Sniffling, Caitlin wiped her face with her arm and gave him a tremulous smile.  “I don’t know, I have hope that Oliver and Felicity will still be gossip worthy one day.”

“ _Cait_ ,” Felicity warned, but it held no bite.  Her mind was still reeling and she didn’t have it in her to be harsh with Caitlin.  She didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed at Curtis, either.  So instead, she leaned into his long comfortable body.

“If anyone deserves to be happy it’s you two,” Caitlin squeezed her hand again and Felicity had the frightening thought that she was counting on Felicity’s love story to end happily since her own was so tragic. 

But her and Oliver…they’d already had their ending and it wasn’t pretty.  Felicity sighed and tried again, “Cait—”

Sara interrupted this time, asking, “Do you mind telling us how the hell we beat Reiter?  Because no one seems to know and the last thing I remember was our asses being handed to us.  After that it all goes black.”  This was clearly something that had been bothering Sara for some time.  Felicity didn’t begrudge her the question, even if she didn’t want to know the answer.

Caitlin pushed herself up.  “Oliver never told you?”  She sounded surprised. 

Felicity wasn’t.  If it took Cait five years to talk about it, Oliver would take this story to his grave.

Sara gave Caitlin a meaningful look that told Felicity  _she_ , at least, understood that.  “Ollie walked out of the debrief with Digg and Waller and as far as I know, he’s never spoken of it since.”

Felicity shuddered.  How had she not known any of this?  She really had been hiding under a rock.  She'd been so selfish.  The only person’s pain she had recognized was her own.  And maybe Caitlin’s.  But, god, Oliver had gone through all of this  _alone_.  And the one person he would have turned to, _Felicity_ , had abandoned him.

She had spent years avoiding thinking about that night.  All thoughts about it were involuntary and quickly shut down.  But now Felicity forced herself to remember the events that led to the gunshot that ruined her life…

It played back like a movie in her mind, incredibly detailed even after all this time, as she listened to Caitlin’s soft voice telling the story to the others.

Felicity could still feel the late afternoon sun when they had arrived at the Tikal Ruins, a park not unlike the one they were in now.  She could see the reassuring look in Oliver’s eyes as he gave her a private smile.  She could feel the dark, dank tunnels, the air getting cooler the further underground they went.

With painful clarity, Felicity remembered all the missteps, all the frustrations and dead- _ends._ All _her_  mistakes.  The mistranslation that led them in the wrong direction, so that by the time they had found the chamber they were looking for…

If Felicity hadn’t made that mistake…

If they had just gotten there  _before_  Reiter…

The chamber was bigger than any they had found before.  And it was cold.  Shockingly cold after the heat they had been used to.  But what Felicity remembered most was this sense, this  _feeling_ …it was just…evil.

God, that sounded so melodramatic, even in her head, but there was no better way to describe it.  That feeling of doom that she had been feeling for days multiplied and became suffocating.  Felicity didn’t know if it was the chamber, the Skull, or Reiter, himself.  He already had the damn monstrosity in his hands, his men surrounding him, filling the room.

“Honestly, it was a blur from that point forward, it all happened so fast,” Caitlin was saying.  She was starting to sound scattered.  “I didn’t have the best view since I was in the tunnel, behind the others.  I’m not a fighter so…I wasn’t really even supposed to be there.  Reiter had the Skull and... I’m not sure why but...”  She looked at Felicity.  “ _You_  were one of the first people in the chamber.  I can’t remember why—”

Felicity swallowed.  “I was trying to get to the pedestal where the Skull was kept.  It was supposed to…um, have instructions…kind of.  I was hoping it might tell us how to control it.  Or shut it off.” 

It sounded so stupid now, but at the time, Felicity had been certain it would help.  She had failed to get them to the Skull before Reiter and it was the only way she could think of to make up for that.  She never got to it, though, so she’ll never know if it would have made a difference or not. 

“I asked Oliver,” Felicity’s voice cracked, “to get me to the pedestal.”

What if she had stayed back with Caitlin?   Let Special Ops do their job?  Would Oliver have even been targeted?  Would things have gone different?  Better?

“Digg shot first,” Caitlin continued and Felicity could still hear the echo, feel the walls shake from that first shot.  That was why they didn’t want firearms in the tunnels ever again.  Never again.  “But he managed to take out…two of their guys—?”

“Three,” Sara corrected.  “I remember.  There were six total, including Reiter.”  Her eyes were distant now too.  Felicity wished the glow ball had a lower setting.  She couldn’t stand the looks on her friends’ faces.  “We had the advantage.  We took down three quickly, but then—”

“Then Reiter figured out how to use the Skull,” Caitlin finished with a shudder.

“It all went to hell from there.  I remember this part well.”  Sara’s voice and face went hard.  It was what they called her assassin’s face, it drove terror into many a heart.

“It hit Slade first.”  Caitlin’s hand fluttered to her face again, covering the side that was burned, in what looked to be an unconscious gesture.  “The red lightning shot out of the Skull’s eyes and the way it hit Salde’s face...the sound, the…it was one of the most horrible things I’ve ever experienced.”

“Then it got worse.”  Sara’s jaw clenched.

“Yeah.  Then it got worse.  Digg tackled Slade, got him out of the line of fire before the lightning could kill him, but a bullet hit Digg...” Caitlin laughed bitterly, almost wildly.  “After that, with his leg…John couldn’t get back up.  Everyone was shooting at Reiter but as soon as he got the Skull it was like…”

“Like the bullets had no effect,” Sara whispered. 

And that was  _exactly_  what it was like.  Felicity remembered being behind Oliver, desperately trying to read the symbols on the walls. Trying to find anything that might help.

Caitlin turned to Sara, “So you tried to hit Reiter with your bo staff from the back—”

“And he turned the Skull on me.  I remember ducking behind a column…”  Sara drifted off, shaking her head.   “Then nothing.”

“The lightning hit the column.” Caitlin squeezed her eyes closed with a small groan.  “Half the room came down, burying you and one of Reiter’s men, knocking Lyla out.  Then that last Shadowspire soldier turned his gun…god, that thing was  _massive_.  It tore straight through the Kevlar.  He turned it on Oliver and—”

“And I stepped in the way,” Felicity finished for her in a whisper.

She hadn’t even thought about it.  It was instinct.  Fear.  Protectiveness.  Cowardliness.  Not wanting to live, if Oliver died.  Not wanting to be the last one left standing. 

That was a fate Felicity had left to Oliver.  How horrible that must have been for him. 

“Reiter turned on Ronnie at the exact same time.  I…” Caitlin’s voice shook and she tipped her head up, tears falling continuously as Sara embraced her and Felicity held her hand.  “The red lightning hit him square in the chest and I just…I remember screaming and screaming.  The noise reverberating through the chamber.  It lifted Ronnie right off the ground and when he fell…”

Caitlin broke off with a sob, but pushed on, “I was covered in John’s blood, trying to stop the bleeding.  Oliver was covered in Felicity’s blood.  I couldn’t even see…Ronnie wasn’t breathing.  I couldn’t find a pulse.  I left a trail of bloody finger prints, but I couldn’t find one.  In that moment, I thought it was all over.  I  _wanted_  it to be over.  It was horrible.”

“It’s okay,” Felicity whispered, squeezing her hand.  Though  _nothing_  was okay.  But she knew that Oliver had probably felt the same.  The sense of defeat.  The desire for it to be over.  Because if Oliver had been the one bleeding out in her arms that would have been exactly how Felicity would have felt.

“So how…?”  Curtis shook his head, looking overwhelmed and shell-shocked.  “How did you turn it around?”

“Oh, it wasn’t me.  I was ready to give up.  I  _would_  have,” Caitlin confessed with a hallow laugh, then she fixed her eyes on Felicity’s.  “It was Oliver.  He went  _berserk_.  Like the Incredible Hulk.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  One minute Reiter was cackling like a villain out of a bad Super Hero movie, the next Oliver let out this _roar_.”

Caitlin shook her head, remembering.  “He moved so fast.  I…the man who shot Felicity’s neck was snapped before I could even blink.  Then, somehow, Oliver had the Skull in his hands.  I’ll never forget the look on his face, the way he just…he just  _threw_  it.  He grabbed the Skull and hurled it against the wall.”

Pulling back the shoulder of her t-shirt, Caitlin pointed to a jagged scar.  “This is from a shard of obsidian.  From when that  _thing_  shattered.  It was the worst wound I got from the entire incident.  Isn’t that crazy?  The world fell apart and all I got was this little cut.  Then John lifted his gun from where he lay bleeding on the floor and shot Reiter in the temple.  And it was done.  Miraculously, we had beaten him.” 

Cait wiped her face with her shirt, the tears seeming to have stopped or at least slowed.  “Then…well, I told you the rest.”

Curtis and Sara nodded. Silent.  Stunned.

But for Felicity…suddenly, despite the bright lights, the walls felt like they were closing in.  Images raced and chased each other through her mind. 

Thoughts.  Feelings.  Memories.  Things Felicity had never known before.  Never wanted to know.

She needed fresh air.  And she needed it  _now_.

Felicity jumped to her feet.  “Curtis, give me a boost.”

“What?  Are you…?”  Curtis looked around, eyes wide and confused.  He turned to the other women for confirmation.

But Felicity really didn’t have time for a committee.  “Boost me  _out_.  I’ll find a rope ladder or something.”  Anything to get out of this shrinking box.

Still, Curtis didn’t stand until Caitlin and Sara gave him the silent okay, which…what the hell was he going to do?  Trap her in here?  What good would  _that_  do? 

But Curtis finally stood and cupped his hands for Felicity to put her foot into.  And, man, she must have been motivated to get out, because she made to the 12 ft. high entrance in one try, grabbing the edge and hoisting herself out.

Once she had pulled her knees up onto the stone floor, Felicity couldn’t get out of that cramped little temple fast enough.  She had to force herself to slow down as she descended the narrow steps so she didn’t tumble down them. 

Wouldn’t  _that_  be humiliating?  Five years ago Felicity was airlifted out with a bullet wound only to be airlifted out today because she tripped.  Wouldn’t _that_  just be her life? 

But she managed not to take a header and the bright sunlight was harsh, but welcome.  Felicity couldn’t get enough of the fresh air, even if it was heavy and damp and suffocatingly warm. She didn’t even realize that she was still walking quickly, aimlessly, away from the temple, leaving her friends stranded, until she almost slammed into Digg and Roy.

“Whoa there, Blondie,” Roy cried, catching Felicity by the shoulders before she plowed him over.

Felicity shook herself, blinking up at Roy.  “Why am _I_ blondie?  Sara’s blonde too.  I’m pretty sure it’s even natural.”

“Sara seems the sort that might react violently to nick-names.” Roy shrugged, scrunching his face up in an apologetic sort of way.  “And she could kick my ass.”

Insinuating, of course, Felicity couldn’t.  Which was fair.  But Digg came to her defense anyway, “I wouldn’t under estimate this one.”  He gave Felicity a brotherly smile and asked, “Find anything at the temple?”

“Nope.”  Unless one counted horrific memories and staggering revelations.  “But the others got themselves stuck in the hole.  So can you…?”

"Seriously?" Digg crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, looking disapproving enough to make Felicity defensive.

“Well, Curtis was our way out until he jumped down too, so…”  Felicity really didn’t feel like explaining that Sara and Curtis jumped down because her and Caitlin were having emotional breakdowns.

Digg rolled his eyes and Felicity had to remind herself it was at Curtis for jumping without thinking.  He didn’t even know about the crying.  John probably wouldn’t roll his eyes at crying.  Even if he  _did_  think less of them for it.

But Digg  _did_  smack Roy square on the chest.  “Come on, let’s go rescue some of ARGUS’ best minds from a hole in the ground.”

“Technically it’s above ground, since it’s  _inside_  the Temple,” Felicity corrected.   If John was going to insult them…

But they were already heading to the temple, no doubt to rib Curtis, which should cheer Caitlin at least.  Roy turned back to Felicity and asked, “You comin’?”

“No, I…”  The last thing Felicity wanted right now was to go anywhere near that temple… _any_ temple for that matter.  “Do you know where Oliver is?” 

Felicity hadn’t even realized until the words fell from her lips that that was where she was headed.

Roy and Digg shared a surprised, yet  _knowing_  look.  One that normally would have made Felicity want to hit them both (and, boy, did Puppy-boy fit in fast if she  _already_  wanted to hit him) but right then, she needed to talk to Oliver and she really didn’t care what anyone thought about it.

“Last I saw him, he was checking the sensors on the on the south-west corner of the park, past the Temple of the Inscriptions.”  Digg pointed in that direction, but Felicity knew the way better than he did and she wasn’t in a conversational state of mind.

She was already moving, striding quickly south, determined to get there before her courage failed her.  Or before her brain kicked back into gear and she talked herself out of it.  Felicity was working on instinct here and her instinct after that story, a story she  _should_  have heard from Oliver’s lips five long years ago, was to go to him.

Beyond that, she had no idea what she was doing.  But Felicity had done a lot of things wrong since Tikal and this felt right.  For  _once_ , something felt right.

Felicity found Oliver in a thatch of trees not too far from the rainforest’s edge.  Actually  _in_  a tree.  Like, as in, high in the branches, adjusting a sensor or something. 

And if her mind was suddenly more scrambled then it usually was, it was with good reason, because Oliver…he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

He was shirtless.  Shirtless Oliver. 

Also something Felicity hadn’t seen in five years, three months and… _whatever_.  It was probably time to stop counting.

It was hard to count at the moment, anyway.  Also, her mouth was dry.  Had Oliver always been so… _so_?  He was… _wow_.  Maybe Felicity wouldn’t be so thrown if she had dated, well, _anyone_ since Oliver…no, there was no one who could ever compare.  Even if Felicity had felt like moving on, no one could live up to… _that_. 

Felicity had never really felt like she was quite good enough for Oliver.  Because… _look_  at him.  And now, after everything she had learned, she  _knew_  she wasn’t good enough.  Oliver should have gone home, moved on.  Found someone who deserved him. 

She was seriously rethinking her decision to come talk to him (which meant her brain was functioning again).  But since Felicity refused to pull another Beach Sprint, she forced herself to call out, “Oliver.” 

It was barely a croak and Oliver didn’t even pause in what he was doing, soo maybe he was ignoring her…but  _probably_  he hadn’t heard her.  Felicity had a choice, she could stand there hypnotized by the muscles of his back…or try again.  Because running wasn’t an option.  Right?

Felicity cleared her throat.  Oh, the hell with it. “Oliver!”

It came out clearer this time.  He heard her, at least.  Felicity could tell by the way Oliver froze, then straightened and turned his head, piercing her with a gaze that made her think of a jungle cat.

Felicity cleared her parched throat (again) and tried for a wave, because a smile was beyond her at that moment.

Oliver frowned down and across the grassy clearing at her, because Felicity hadn’t been able to make herself walk  _over_  to the tree.  So he watched her from a distance for a full minute, looking beyond confused.  

And why wouldn’t he?  After how Felicity behaved yesterday, Oliver probably thought she would rather walk across hot coals than voluntarily come to talk to him. 

Alone. 

Again. 

But there she was.  Standing there.  Like an idiot.

This was a really bad idea.  Maybe Felicity just needed to leave the poor man alone.  Let him heal.  The last thing Oliver needed was  _her_  in his life again. 

But then Oliver dropped from the tree, graceful as the famed Mayan Jaguar the Sun God loved so much.  And once he started stalking toward her, well, then Felicity was really stuck.  Too late to turn back now.  Even if she  _could_  make her legs move.

Oliver did pause to grab his t-shirt off a branch, which was a relief and a disappointment.  Tall-Gorgeous and Dangerous, indeed.  He pulled it on as he walked toward her, but not before Felicity caught the glimpse of a new tattoo over his heart, a particularly stunning star design that made her heart race. 

Of course, Felicity also saw a few new scars to throw fuel on her growing funeral pyre of guilt.  Could one actually spontaneously combust from remorse?  Was there an actual max on how much one could feel?

Also, the way Oliver was frowning...it really didn’t help her relax. 

“Felicity,” Oliver acknowledged with a stiff nod of his head.  “Is something wrong?”

_Everything_  was wrong.  When was the last time something was  _right_? 

“No.  Nothing,” Felicity told him, even managing a tiny smile.  But maybe it was a grimace.  She did manage a wide-eyed innocent look.  She was sure of that.  For what that was worth.

Oliver’s forehead crinkled and his eyes searched her face.  Felicity must look awful.  “Did you find something in the temple?”

“Nope.  It was a big bust.  A total waste of time.  We should have gone directly to the Door in the jungle.” 

And that…had absolutely nothing to do with why she was here.  Felicity was babbling, avoiding what she was really there to talk about.  Because she wasn’t actually sure she wanted to say what she wanted to say.  Or even what what she wanted to say _was_. 

Wow.  Her thoughts didn’t make one lick of sense.  How did Felicity have any hope of her _words_ being coherent?

“Oh.  Okay.”  Oliver looked away, biting the inside of his lip, almost imperceptibly, but Felicity noticed.  “Did you want me to talk to Digg about heading out early?”

Oliver was using his mild tone.  His super-respectful, walking on egg-shells tone.  It made Felicity’s skin crawl.  She shook her head.  “No.  It’s all right.  We might as well stay.  I have a few other ideas of where to…Caitlin told us about Tikal today.”

Huh.  So,  _that_  was what she came here to say.

“What?!”  Oliver gasped, his eyes snapping to hers, wide and almost… _horrified_.

“She told us what happened after I, you know,  _passed out_ …” Wow, now that was a pretty impressive euphemism for almost dying. “Actually, Cait told Curtis the whole story, but the end was all new to me.  That’s insane, right?  That I’d never heard it before.  I was  _there_.  It changed my  _entire_  life.  I live with Caitlin and yet, I never…neither of us…”

“You didn’t want to talk about it.  I understand.”

And it looked like he really did.  In fact, it looked like Oliver didn’t want to talk about it  _now_.  Or ever.  He looked about as uncomfortable as Felicity had ever seen him.

But this had to be said.  “No.  You  _shouldn’t_  understand.  You can understand about Cait.  But me… _I_  should have asked.”

Oliver’s stance changed.  He crossed his arms over his chest and buried his hands in his arm pits.  He was bracing himself, getting ready to be hurt.  For what, Felicity had no idea, but it brought tears back to her eyes. 

Felicity probably already had dusty, grimy paths where they had fallen before.  Had Oliver noticed? 

Who was she kidding?  Of _course_ , he noticed.  Oliver noticed everything.

“Was there something you needed?” Oliver asked, his voice harder, defensive.

Felicity drew herself up.  She would  _not_  panic.  She would  _not_  run.  She  _would_  take this first step to heal this mess she’d made.  It was time to stop hurting him.

“No.  I mean, yes.  I mean, I need to tell you something.”  Wow.   _That_  was articulate.  Way to go, Smoak.

Oliver squared his shoulders.  He looked like he was facing the firing squad.  “Okay…?”

Felicity just need to find the words, the  _right_  words.  Something, anything, that would start to make things better.

“I…I’m really glad that I stepped in front of that bullet.” 

Okay, maybe  _that_  wasn’t it.

“ _What_!” Oliver looked beyond horrified now.  Actually, he looked like Felicity had just punched him.  Hard.  In the teeth.  Or maybe the balls.

“What I meant to say…”  No, she wouldn’t take it back.  It was true.  “I… let me explain,” Felicity pleaded because she was starting to worry _Oliver_ was going to bolt, pull his own Beach Sprint.  But, then again, he always had been the braver one.  “I had no idea…” 

Then, suddenly, Felicity knew  _exactly_  what she had to say. 

“You were a hero that day.  And I didn’t know.  I  _should_  have known.  You saved all of us.  Hell, you saved the fraking world.  Thank god, you didn’t take that bullet.  If you  _had_ , we’d  _all_  be dead.”

“ _Felicity_ …” Oliver shook his head, sounding tormented.  Shocked.  Taken-a-back.  But tormented still.

But what he needed was to understand.  “It’s  _true_.  I never regretted taking that bullet, but now…I’m  _glad_.  I know that you wish that it had hit you instead of me, and that’s okay because that’s who you are, you’re self-sacrificing like that, but in this case, well, it’s stupid to wish that…which sounds much harsher than I meant it to…”

Was that a crack of a smile?  Please, let that be a smile.

“I don’t know why I’m calling you stupid when you were the hero of the goddamn hour.” Felicity was on a roll now.  “But if you _had_ been hit and I hadn’t, what the hell would  _I_  have done?   _I_  wouldn’t have been able to get the Skull from Reiter.  Hell, all I had to do was read the glyphs right and get us to the Skull first and I couldn’t even do that right—”

“ _Felicity_ , that wasn’t your fault,” Oliver insisted.  Still trying to take care of her.  His posture had eased, though, softened, so she must finally be getting through to him.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t  _your_  fault.”  Because this was about  _Oliver_  right now.  “None of it.  Not even my bullet wound.  It was the guy who shot me and Reiter and even, partially, mine.  But not yours.  It was because of you that I got out of there alive.  And John.  And everyone else.  It was because of  _you_  that Cait got to give Ronnie a proper burial.”  Crap and there went the tears again.  “So, you need to stop blaming yourself.  Like  _right now_!”

Oliver was stunned.  Which, well, Felicity  _had_  just yelled at him.  Which was one way of tackling the situation.  Maybe not the  _best_  way.

Oliver opened and closed his mouth without saying anything.  Because, really, how  _did_  a sane person react to  _that_?  Then he said, “Felicity, I…” His tongue snuck out and wet his lower lip.  “Okay.”

“Okay…?”

Okay?  Felicity really hadn’t expected him to say…wow, that tongue thing was distracting…

Okay…what?  Okay to not blaming himself?  Okay, let’s get her to the mental hospital?  He probably needed to be a little bit more specific. 

“Yeah,” Oliver breathed, scrunching up his face and nodding.  Like he didn’t know what to do with all his emotions.  Like he’d forgotten how to express them.  What had the Bratva done to him?  “I’ll try.”

“To stop blaming yourself?”  Felicity asked, feeling bad for pressuring him, but it was important.  Poor Oliver.  He’d been through so much.  “Sorry, if I need to clarify, but it’s been a reeeeally long two days and I’m kinda fried—”

Oliver actually chuckled, a smile forming and…wow, she was melting.  Felicity really was still _so_ in love with him.  But had she ever really thought that changed? 

“Yes,” Oliver told her simply, with a single nod.  “I will try to not…blame myself for… _that_ night.  Much.”

“Well, that’s a start, I suppose.”  Hesitant as it was.  Because it really did look like the concession was painful and Felicity hadn’t though that it would be easy.  “All right.  Good then.”  Felicity nodded as well.  Like a moron.  And…she had no idea what to say, or do, next.  “So, then I should just…”

She gestured behind her and Oliver gave her an understanding nod.  He was probably more than ready for this painful little exchange to end.  Felicity turned and started to walk away.  She had done what she had come here to do and she had probably humiliated herself enough.  For one day at least.

But Felicity hadn’t gotten ten feet before she glanced back and saw Oliver staring after her with confusion and…awe and…

And, apparently, Felicity  _hadn’t_  humiliated herself enough, because she turned around and, again, gave into some strange impulse or instinct or whatever crazy thing and ran _toward_ him.  And then, as if that weren’t bad enough, she full-on hug attacked Oliver. 

Felicity just  _threw_  herself at him, wrapping her arms around Oliver’s sweaty torso and burying her face in his chest.

God…his _smell_. 

He smelled like home.  The one she’d forgotten she had.  Felicity closed her eyes against the burning in her eyes.  She should probably say something, try to explain her bizarre behavior, justify her invasion of his person space…but she was completely out of words.

Oliver didn’t hug her back.  Not at first.  He kind of held his arms up and just…let himself be hugged.  Which was better than pushing her away, she supposed.  But still really weird. He was frozen, like he couldn’t actually believe this was happening, which Felicity totally understood.  She couldn’t believe it was happening either.

But then, after an excruciatingly long moment, Oliver gingerly settled his arms around her and held her.  Held her as if he were afraid she might just break.  And that may have been a valid concern.  If he was judging by the evidence before him. 

Finally, because if she didn’t do it then, Felicity was afraid she never would, she pulled out of Oliver’s arms and gave him what she hoped passed for a smile. 

“So, um…”  Felicity started walking backwards, wringing her hands as she did.  “I’m going to go.  Again.”  She gestured over her shoulder.  “And take a look at those carvings I was talking about.”

Felicity turned quickly, not wanting to look at his face, horrifically embarrassed now that she wasn’t touching him any longer. But, again, she got that magic ten feet away when Oliver called her name.  And she couldn’t  _not_  turn back when he called.

Oliver met her eyes and gave a heartfelt, “Thank you.” 

This time, she didn’t have to make herself smile.

Felicity was rather proud that she made it out of sight before she really started to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional pictures and maps for this chapter[ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/166573026990/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-4)
> 
> I never really planned to go into what really happened in Tikal. It was easier to keep it vague, but then I decided that was lazy and  _I_  at least needed to know what happened so I could write the characters properly. Then once it was all mapped out, I couldn’t  _not_ tell the story.
> 
> This chapter was very difficult to write, both emotionally and logistically. On the second, I hope the story was clear (It wasn’t until my third edit that I realized that I was talking about John having been shot without actually ever  _saying_  he was shot). As for the emotional side, this chapter is a turning point.  Felicity’s hit rock bottom with the retelling/reliving of Tikal and is ready for the uphill climb back to living.
> 
> The Temple of the Sun in Palenque is truly an ancient calendar. It has these odd walls that allows light to shine through and mark the Equinox and the Solstice. There are frescos. I have no idea what they say. King Cadmeal is completely made up. I thought there was a chamber underneath, but when I googled it again, I couldn’t find it, so maybe I made that up too.
> 
> And last, but never least, thank you to my girls,  **fairytalehearts**  and  **ireland1733** , and to everyone who comments and kudos, it means so much!
> 
> Don’t forget to let me know what you think. You can also find me at:  
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	6. Chapter 5:Palenque

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

 

_September 16, 2016_  
_19:52_  
_Palenque Ruins, Mexico_

Palenque after sunset was a very different place.  Silent.  Dark.  Eerie.  The air was heavy and damp, the sky inky black and every sound that broke the silence made Felicity’s muscles twitch.

There was plenty to be afraid of in the darkness with the jungle only yards away.   There were howler monkeys and jaguars and poisonous snakes.  The air smelled like an impending summer storm and in this area of the world it could turn into a hurricane in an instant.  There were ample shadows for HIVE operatives to hide in and their threat was constant. 

But it wasn’t the rational threats that sent shivers down her spine.  Call it the spirit of the Mayans or…something else, but sitting there in the dark, Felicity almost had a heightened sense of the good and evil inhabiting the world.

Rarely had Felicity had the occasion to visit the ruins at night.  Even that final Tikal mission, they had arrived during the day. 

The park authorities didn’t make much of an effort to keep it lit at night.  They merely closed the parks well before sunset.   The tourists, the workers…all gone before night came.

Felicity had always thought it odd.  In America, they would have lit it up and sold tickets to see the ruins against the night sky, probably even set off fireworks twice a week.  But not here.  If it weren’t for the light of Curtis’ glow ball in Felicity’s pocket and the campfire in the distance, the darkness would be complete but for the stars and the tiny sliver left of the moon.

One would have thought that after the day Felicity had had the last thing she would want would be to sit alone.  In the dark.  Staring at the jungle.  That she would have sought the comfort of the campfire, of her friends.  But, somehow, the darkness grounded her.  With the stars above and wilderness surrounding her, it helped her remember that she was just a speck in the universe.  A blip in time. 

Because this was no longer a world of modern tourists and adventure seekers, of historians and archaeologists.   _This_  was the Mayan’s world.

Secretly, Felicity had always imagined that the ghost of King Pacal came out when the skies darkened and the living left.  That his warriors once again walked the streets and protected the city.  That the priests reappeared to perform their rituals and worship their gods.  Perhaps that was why the local governments cleared everyone out before sunset.  Maybe they knew they weren’t welcome any longer.

All those human sacrifices…did they wander the crumbling ruins, looking for revenge?  The athletes that lost their lives in the bloody ballfield, did their spirits play over and over again, trying to change the outcome?

Sometimes, Felicity imagined that as soon as the last living soul left for the night, the streets would come alive again with the Mayan way of life.  Woman and children and—

“Felicity.”

Her name was only a whisper, but it made her jump, yelping, “Ahh!” her hand flying up to cover her heart. 

It was  _incredibly_  dignified.  As was the way Felicity sprang to her feet, her legs tangling and missing the crumbling stone steps beneath them completely.   She would have gone tumbling backward, down the not yet restored steps of the Palace, if two strong hands hadn’t grabbed her, steadying her.

“Whoa!  You all right?  I didn’t mean…?”  The hands were against her back, thumbs curling around to rest gently against her ribs.  Familiar hands. 

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed, relieved.

But then, she realized he was holding her upright and that his hands were almost burning her skin through her clothes and, wow, that was nice.  Also his thumbs were really close to the underside of her breasts and her shirt was thin and damp with sweat and he just stood there, immobile…

Then Oliver must have realized what was going on too, because he unfroze in an instant, adjusting his hands down, to circle her waist (away from her more delicate anatomy) and lifted her off what Felicity was sure were  _once_  perfectly stable steps and placed her next to him on solid ground. 

Oliver let go as soon as Felicity was half-way able to stand herself, his hands flying off of her as if he too felt the burn.  He didn’t seem to like it nearly as much though.  Except, maybe, like her, he liked it  _too_  much.

Just like that, the spell was broken and Felicity had the irrational thought that she somehow wanted to… _un_ break it.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Oliver almost stammered, sounding awkward and unsure.  Oliver should never sound awkward and unsure.  It broke her heart.  Everything about him now seemed to send her heart shattering into tinier and tinier shards.

“No.  No.  You just startled me,” Felicity quickly tried to reassure.  Anything to bring the old Oliver back.  The confident Oliver.  “I was just…er…stuck in my own thoughts and I…”

Recognition flashed in Oliver’s eyes and a small, but genuinely fond, smile played on his lips.  “Imagining the ghosts are out to play?”

Ugh.  Oliver  _would_  remember that of all things.  What had Felicity said about wanting confident Oliver back?  She took it back.  She took it _all_ back. 

Blushing and turning from the light so he wouldn’t see, (which was really dumb since the main source of light was in her pocket and therefor followed her) Felicity muttered, “Oh, shush up, you.”

And that was really far too familiar for the status of their relationship.  Currently.  But, clearly, Felicity’s already faulty filter was nonexistent when in the company of her gorgeous ex.  Especially when she was embarrassed.  Or nervous.  Both of which were a given in Oliver’s presence lately.

The gorgeous ex in question, by the way, was chuckling softly at her, which kind sorta made Felicity’s heart do this tiny skipping thing, along with intensifying her blush, because it really had been  _forever_  since she had heard Oliver laugh.  And he was actually doing it with  _her_.  Well, maybe  _at_ her, but her heart didn’t seem to acknowledge that there was a difference.

Felicity sat back down at her perch at the edge of the grassy area on the expanse above the stairs to the old Palace.  Oliver swung down next to her and…

Well, _that_ was unexpected. 

Actually, Felicity hadn’t expected  _anything_ , really…but she certainly had  _not_  thought Oliver would just stroll over and sit next to her, like they were going to  _hang out_ , like they were friends or something.

Could they be friends?  After everything?  Had the weird hug thing she had given him somehow conveyed to Oliver that that was what she wanted?   _Was_  it what she wanted?  Felicity would do just about anything to have him back in her life, in whatever small way that was, but…had they ever been  _just_  friends?

Then Felicity realized that while her brain was loud and busy, her body was just sitting there, silently staring out at the jungle.  And while it wasn’t as awkward as it should-slash-could be, it also wasn’t exactly the best way to encourage Oliver to seek out her company.  And she really,  _really_ wanted to encourage him.

“You weren’t supposed to remember that,” Felicity finally whispered, referring to the last thing Oliver said, though, it seemed like he said it hours ago.  But it was the only thing Felicity could think of to say.

Peeking over, Felicity caught sight of Oliver’s lips tipping upward as he said softly, “It’s kind of hard to forget.”

Did Oliver sound nostalgic?  Felicity thought, perhaps, there was a compliment in there somewhere.  Or at least an olive branch.  She couldn’t afford to ignore the opportunity.

“Sometimes…don’t you wish things were easier to forget?” Felicity asked, realizing too late that the tone was all wrong.  It was too intimate, too vulnerable.  Too bitter, even.  Oh, why was she so terrible at small talk?

“Not that one.  I like that memory,” Oliver admitted quietly and, maybe, his tone was just as vulnerable and intimate as hers was.  He was looking out over the steps, his gaze lost in the darkness as hers had been only moments before.  His words were sweet and quiet and maybe even a little sad. 

Everything Oliver said now seemed a little bit sad.  But maybe that was just Felicity’s bias.

“That’s because you can’t see how scary the ghosts are in my head.  The Mayans make _terrifying_ ghosts.”   Apparently, Felicity’s brain, sans filter, was going to try for humor now.  Not a terrible choice.  She hoped.  It could have been worse.

Oliver appeared to swallow another chuckle and Felicity wished he would just let go.  She wanted to hear him laugh out loud like he used to.  “I thought that the ghosts had celebrations and festivals and those sorts of things.”

Oh god, he  _did_  remember everything.  Felicity didn’t even remember telling Oliver that.  Well, she hadn’t.  She remembered now. 

Now, Felicity couldn’t help but recall laying in Oliver’s arms on a dark and humid night, whispering her tales of the Mayan Undead as he held her, amused and relaxed.  Maybe it  _was_  a good memory.  A  _very_  good memory, actually, full of intimacy and comfort and sweaty skin that she used to be allowed to touch.

“Yes, but the ghosts only celebrate  _after_  they’ve relived the horrors of ritual sacrifice.”  Because Felicity couldn’t imagine that dead Mayans would be any gentler than the living ones.   _And_  she needed to distract herself from thoughts of lying in Oliver’s arms.  Those thoughts were much more dangerous than dead Mayans.

“Well, I see how that might be less fun,” Oliver agreed, nodding, though amusement was still evident in his voice.

“Especially for those involved.”

Oliver turned his head and they shared a smile that had Felicity flushing and turning her gaze away like a school girl.  So much for keeping her thoughts platonic.

Then Oliver surprised…no,  _shocked_  her by saying, “You know, I don’t really have any bad memories of this place.”

Felicity’s head snapped up and she looked over at him, her eyes wide and incredulous.  He _had_ to be kidding.

But Oliver shrugged.  “That was  _Tikal_ ,” he said simply, as if he could read her mind.  Which, apparently, he could.   _Still_  could.  Felicity wasn’t sure if that was a comforting or a terrifying thought. “ _This_  is Palenque.”

“Isn’t one ancient Mayan ruin the same as any other in the dark?”  Because it certainly felt that way to Felicity.  Limestone, humidity, and restless spirits.

But Oliver gave her a lopsided smile, giving her this look that made Felicity confused enough to run the last thing she said over in her head…oh dear lord, had she really said  _that_?  And had Oliver  _really_  taken it that way?

The laughter in Oliver’s eyes certainly said that he had.  Then he confirmed her suspicions by murmuring, his grin just the slightest bit wicked, “There is no way to interpret that sentence that would make it true.”

And Felicity felt like giggling.  Because here she was, sitting with the estranged love of her life, and he might actually be  _flirting_  with her.  She was suddenly glad for the inky black night because the eye contact was too much.

She didn’t laugh, though.  She didn’t even flirt back.  She was terrible at flirting, anyway.  Maybe she should have tried though, because instead Felicity said, “Well, if you can sit in these ruins and have them remind you of happy things, then you are doing better than I am.”  And, of course, Oliver was doing better that her.   _That_  was obvious.

“Really?  Because some of those memories were  _really_  good.” 

Oliver just whispered the words.  The tone wasn’t particularly suggestive.  But maybe it was the way he glanced at her from beneath those unfairly long eyelashes…

Because a rush of heat assailed her and Felicity couldn’t help but recall one particular very, _very_ good memory.  In fact, the images practically assaulted her with their… _goodness_.

It was early in their mission against Shadowspire.  The team hadn’t been in Central America for very long and Felicity had been just beginning her research of the Mayan world.  Much of what they were doing was recon in small groups, which Oliver and Felicity had really enjoyed since it meant a lot of time alone, just them.

That particular night, Oliver had helped her sneak back into the ruins after dark to look at an area that was restricted.  In fact, it had been the first time Felicity had been in the ruins after dark, so she was surprised she hadn’t remembered it earlier.  It seemed she had locked up the good memories even more securely than the bad.

Alone and enjoying the adventure, they…Felicity and Oliver had been so young and so in love.  Reckless. 

They’d had particularly wild sex on a glassy landing just like this one.  Only it was on the edge of the Observatory and…

And, suddenly, Felicity was  _very_  aware of how close Oliver was sitting and the air was thick with more than just humidity.  The tension between them was palpable, but without even a speck of the awkwardness that had been there before.  And so much more dangerous.

Had they ever really been that young and free and hopeful?  Lord, Felicity had forgotten that she had ever had that much… _fun_.

But she didn’t say any of that.  Instead, Felicity muttered, “That was Chichen Itza.” 

As if reminding Oliver that that particular ‘good’ memory was from a third set of ruins would…what?  Take power from the memory?  Be some sort of come back? 

Let him know that she hadn’t forgotten either?

Oliver’s eyes widened and he burst out laughing and, as insulting as it was, it was more…more…Felicity didn't even know what but for the first time, since  _everything_ , she saw  _her_  Oliver. 

Then Oliver went and ruined it by saying, “That wasn’t the memory  _I_  was referring to but, well, it was certainly one of the better ones, that’s for sure.”

Okay.  So maybe Felicity’s mind had taken her in an unnecessarily dirty direction and maybe she was a little bit humiliated now, but did he  _have_ to rub it in?

“That absolutely  _was_  what you were referring to,” Felicity insisted, because there was no _way_ her mind was dirtier than Oliver’s.   He couldn’t have changed  _that_  much.

“I was referring to the first time we were in Palenque,” Oliver insisted, his eyes dancing in the muted light of Curtis’ device and Felicity wasn’t sure if she believed him or not.  But the joy at seeing his eyes express something other than guilt and misery was probably worth the embarrassment.

Also, it was probably a good idea to steer away from discussing their (impressive) sexual past.  Thinking about it had been dangerous enough.  Felicity couldn’t handle  _talking_  about it.  Especially not with him.

So, Felicity forced herself to remember the first time they had come to read the glyphs at Palenque and she smiled, because the memory was, while less fiery, still rather lovely.  “You were very good at playing the lackadaisical college student backpacking around the world.”  If only it had been true.

“Ahh…except I never graduated college,” Oliver retorted in that self-deprecating way that always came so easily to him.  He was very good at not taking himself too seriously.  It was one of things she loved about him.

“Which only goes to prove my point.”  Felicity shrugged, hoping a little banter would help make the tone a bit lighter.  “Once you graduate, the college days are done and the fun ends.”

There was a pause, then Oliver said quietly, “But the fun ended anyway, didn’t it?”

So much for lightness.  “Yeah.”  Felicity sighed, remembering how fun it really had been to case out the ruins, pretending to be nothing more than two young backpackers out on an adventure, holding hands and seeing the sights.  It hadn’t felt much like they were pretending.  “It was nice.  Almost like we were on vacation.” 

Actually, it was the most vacation-like thing she had ever experienced.  Felicity couldn’t remember ever being that happy.  Oliver was right.  There were a lot of good memories in this place.  A beautiful climb before the fall.

Oliver huffed out a laugh.  “Where did all the  _good_  undercover missions go?”

“I don’t suppose Russia was much of a vacation?”  Felicity asked, because, apparently, she wanted to kill any pleasant atmosphere they were creating, all the positive emotions. 

Or maybe Felicity just felt the need to remind herself that she didn’t deserve them.  It wouldn’t help either of them if she let herself forget everything she had done to him.

“No,” Oliver murmured, his eyes back to examining the black depths of the jungle.  “Not really.”

They lapsed into silence.  Felicity didn’t really know what to say so she joined Oliver in his examination of the emptiness.  Only it wasn’t empty.  The jungle was anything but empty.  It was just…hidden. 

Had Oliver found anything hiding in those shadows?  Was he contemplating his own daemons?  Felicity really doubted that Oliver was lost in happy thoughts this time.  Though, even the happy memories were bittersweet.  Painful reminders of everything that was lost.  Of a time they could never have again.

It wasn’t long before the silence became too much for her.  Too loud.  Too vacant.  And Felicity’s damn fool mouth had to go run away with itself.  _Again_.

“So I don’t imagine you wandered over here just to keep me company?”  Felicity asked.  And immediately regretted it, because her words implied that their spending time together was ridiculous.  Or, even worse, that she didn’t want Oliver here.  “Not that…you can keep me company _any_ time.  I welcome it, actually.”

And…there she went, back to the weird socially awkward dork.  And, while it was an improvement over  _insulting_  Oliver, Felicity just…she hated it when she sounded that way.  It always made her feel so inferior, especially around him.  Smooth, charming Oliver Queen.

For the next several heartbeats, the only sign Oliver even heard her was the way he careful ran his tongue over his upper lip.  And the insecure part of Felicity thought the silence was because he didn’t want to be around a weirdo like her and he was just trying to figure out a way to escape without hurting her feelings. 

But the semi-rational part, the part that still  _knew_  Oliver, who had his every tic and mannerism burned into her brain… _she_  saw an anxious gesture.  But that didn’t fit either.  What did _Oliver_ have to be anxious about?

He shook his head, almost like he was trying to break himself out of a trance.  When he looked back at Felicity, the distant casual Oliver was back.  The mask. 

God, how Felicity hated that mask.

“Right.  Sorry.  I was told you need to be dragged to dinner.”

Oh frak.

Annnnnd…Felicity was going to murder Caitlin and Curtis.  It was one thing to tease her about not feeding herself.  That was endearing.  Another to tell Sara.  That was annoying.  But to not only tell  _Oliver_  that she needed a nursemaid, but to appoint him said nursemaid…that was  _way_  over the line.   So totally  _not_ cool.

“And you were elected?”  Felicity asked and she knew it came out bitter, because how could it not?  She was already imagining the humiliating interaction between her friends and Oliver.  What had they said about her?  The whole thing made her sick to her stomach.

But what Felicity  _wasn’t_  expecting was Oliver to look at his feet and mumble under his breath, “I volunteered.”

Felicity’s first thought was that he was lying.  That Oliver was just saying that to make her feel better.  But the way he was avoiding her gaze and generally acting like a middle schooler trying to ask a girl out for the first time…

Okay.  So, if he  _had_  volunteered…what did  _that_  mean?  And, since Felicity didn’t know what to make of it,  _of course_ , she kept talking, “Well, that, um…they totally exaggerate, you know?  Caitlin.  And Curtis.  He is a  _complete_  drama queen.” Oh  _why_  did she even try to talk when she was flustered.  “I get a little distracted by work is all.  I don’t skip meals on _purpose_ or anything like—”

“It’s all right,” Oliver gently stopped her defensive ramble, like he always used to do, saving her from herself.  “You’ve always been…single-minded.  I get it.”  And Felicity wanted to hug him, just because he was so wonderful.  But she couldn’t.  He still wasn’t even looking at her, just gnawing on his lip nervously.  “Anyway, it’s our last night where we get to eat a real meal and it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to cook over a campfire, so I made chili and—”

“Wait.  _Your_  chili?”  Because hold the presses.   _That_  was something that needed to be addressed.  And, maybe, it was a welcome distraction as well. “The one that is so hot it’s made some of the scariest agents in ARGUS cry?   _That_  chili?”

Oliver had the grace to look sheepish.  “Well, Slade felt it was an important initiation rite for Curtis and Roy.  And Digg agreed, so—”

“Oh god,” Felicity burst out laughing.  Those poor, _poor_ boys.  “Are you at least going to warn them?”

Oliver’s shrug spoke volumes.  Of course, Slade would never allow them to be  _warned_.  That would ruin his fun.  Felicity dissolved into laughter, just imagining it.  It was mean, but she had to say she was feeling pretty good about getting one over on Curtis right now.  Especially after all the ‘Tall Gorgeous and Dangerous’ crap.  And, lord, she was  _not_  going to miss those first bites. 

“Roy’s never gotten the chance to try it?” Felicity asked, because she really did feel bad for the poor sweet puppy and if they spent three years together, Oliver must have cooked for him.

And maybe Felicity was dying for some clue as to what it was like for Oliver in Russia.  Some hint that there might have been something normal, even good.

Oliver shrugged again, but his shoulders seemed heavier.  “It wasn’t exactly a common dish in Russia.  I would have had to go out of my way to get the ingredients and that wouldn’t have exactly been blending in.  It’s better over a campfire anyway.”  He tried for a lighter tone at the end, but the atmosphere between them had shifted.  Again.

And all Felicity could think about was what it must have been like for Oliver when he first arrived in that cold, unforgiving place, trying to  _blend in_ with the Russian Bratva.  The violence.  The ugliness.  It wasn’t a place Oliver belonged.  It was the opposite of everything she had wanted for him.

But when had Felicity ever gotten what she wanted?

“You weren’t supposed to go to Russia.”

After the words escaped her mouth, it took Felicity a full minute to accept that she had actually said them out loud.  Then she wanted to clasp her hands over her mouth and force them back inside.

Oliver was staring at her, his eyes narrowed, his expression incredulous.  Oh god, she had gone and ruined  _everything_! 

“And where  _exactly_  was I supposed to go?”  The edge to Oliver’s voice made Felicity flinch.  It was the first time since they had seen each other again that he actually sounded angry, and, while she knew she deserved it, it was horrible to experience.

But there was no backing out now.  “Starling.”  It came out as a pathetic little whimper.

Oliver didn’t answer immediately.  He blinked at her, his face going through a range of emotions before he finally said, “I don’t think I understand.” 

Felicity was inordinately relieved that he wasn’t screaming.  Yet. 

But...of course, Oliver didn’t understand.  It was incomprehensible.  How could Felicity make him understand something  _incomprehensible_?  Especially without burdening him with the full knowledge of her…medical condition.

“After…After…”  After Felicity broke his heart and refused to tell him why, betraying everything they had, completely and absolutely.  “After Tikal, you were supposed to go home to Starling.  You said…”  She closed her eyes, wishing she hadn’t started this, wishing she had kept her big fat mouth shut.  “You  _said_  that you didn’t want to stay in ARGUS without me, so I…you were supposed to go home to Starling and be happy.”

“You thought I would be  _happy_?”  Oliver spat out, his anger now palpable. 

Tensing, Felicity prepared herself for the yelling, the rage.  God knew she deserved it and at least it was better than his self-loathing, right?  

“How on  _earth_  was a supposed to be  _happy_?”

Felicity flinched, his pointed words hitting their mark with perfect precision.  Maybe Oliver didn’t have to raise his voice.  His cold, even tone worked just as well. 

“By retiring?  By going home to be with your family?  By finding someone new?”  Each offering was a pitiful whisper, becoming less confident with every word. It all sounded so stupid now. 

And it only seemed to make Oliver angrier.  His fist clenched at his side and his jaw hardened as he turned his eyes back to the jungle.  “Well, I’m sorry that I didn’t appease your guilt by living happily ever after.”

“That wasn’t…”  Crap.  Now it sounded like Felicity just hadn’t wanted to be with him, that not talking to Oliver after the attack was just any easy out, a way to get rid of him.  God, could anything be _further_ from the truth?   “It wasn’t like that.”  And, yeah, that was convincing.  Excellent argument.  Well done.

“Then what was it like, Felicity?”  Oliver’s voice was hard, but controlled, almost tired.  “Because I have no fucking clue.”

Felicity knew she deserved to be swore out, but she flinched at his words just the same.  Oliver never used that kind of language with her.  Well, not  _at_  her.  “I don’t know.  I was just really messed up after Tikal—”

“That doesn’t explain—”

“I just didn’t think I could ever be happy again,” Felicity burst out.  She still didn’t, honestly.  “And I wanted  _you_  to be happy.  So I thought if I left…you would find a way.”

The crazy part was that it was the complete truth.  Felicity really  _had_  been convinced that she was sacrificing her happiness for Oliver’s.  And, though she knew she handled it all wrong, she still didn’t have any idea what she should have done instead.

Oliver shook his head in disbelief.  “I don’t…that doesn’t even make sense.”

“I didn’t say it was logical,” Felicity threw back, her own frustration making her raise her voice.  God, she hoped no one heard.  But she was  _not_ making this worse my telling Oliver about the hysterectomy.  She was  _not_.  “ _Obviously_ , I wasn’t thinking clearly.  I’d actually venture to say that it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

Oliver watched her with a furrowed brow.  Did her confession finally take the edge off his anger?  Felicity was giving him a lot.  Too much, maybe.  She was basically admitting she never should have broken up with him, which was one step away from admitting that she was still in love with him.

Felicity had just made herself incredibly vulnerable, even more so than before.  And while it was something Oliver deserved, that didn’t make it any easier.  God, what he must think of her.  Was he finally realizing that the brilliant (somewhat) together girl he once knew had died that night, leaving this irrational nutcase in her place.

Yet, Oliver was still missing a vital piece of information.  Something that might at least show some sort of logic to her thought processes.  But even if she thought telling him was the right thing to do, even if she  _wanted_  the words to come…Felicity knew that her voice wouldn’t cooperate.  It was protective and it was keeping that last piece of the puzzle buried deep.

Finally, Oliver whispered, “I don’t know what to say.”  But the heat was gone from his voice and that made Felicity incredibly relieved.  “There is  _too much_  I could say.”

Felicity was honestly scared of what that was.  She may deserve his ire, but that didn’t mean that she could handle it.  “You don’t owe me anything.  This was my mistake, not yours.”

Oliver sighed and Felicity could see the weight of the word take its place back on his shoulders.  “It takes two, Felicity.”

And just when she thought that she had at least accomplished one thing, making him understand this wasn’t  _his_ fault, Felicity realized that she had accomplished nothing.  Guilt or anger?  When was Oliver going to realize those weren’t the only two options?

“Maybe a relationship takes two people to work, but that wasn’t our problem and this… _this_  was all on me.”  And Reiter and fate and…

It wasn’t fair.  Oliver didn’t deserve this.   _Felicity_  didn’t deserve this.  It was all so cruel.  Why hadn’t it gone the way she’d planned?  At least then,  _something_  could have been salvaged.  “But, god, why _Russia_?”

Because if Oliver hadn’t chosen Russia, _one_  of them at least could have been happy. 

Shrugging, Oliver answered simply, “I was needed.  It was far.”

Far.  Far from her.  Far from the memories.  Felicity supposed that it had been easy for Oliver to hide in Russia, just like it had been easy for her to hide in her Cave. 

The only thing was, her Cave really wasn’t so bad.  Felicity had friends.  She was surrounded by  _good_  people.  It was temperature controlled.  It wasn’t a frozen wasteland surrounded by soulless mobsters.

“But Starling,” Felicity whimpered, because there was a part of her that still didn’t understand why that part of the plan couldn’t have happened, making it all worth it. 

Probably.  Probably worth it. The idea of Oliver happy with another woman was harder to bear with him sitting next to her.

“I really don’t understand why you thought I could go home,” Oliver said in a way that made Felicity question that as well.  “Not after  _that_  night.”

Because Oliver had made it clear that he only wanted to go home after he felt like he had redeemed himself and, of course, he wouldn’t feel like a conquering hero with Ronnie in the grave and Felicity…lost to him.  But the ironic part was that he  _had_  been a hero that night.  If there had been anything left to redeem, surely, he had done so.

But there was also an accusation buried in Oliver’s words.  An implication that Felicity should have known better, known  _him_  better than to think he would be able to go home after Tikal.  And he was right.  She should have.  She should apologize.  She should…

“I tried to keep you from going to Russia.”

She should have her mouth sewn shut.  Because if it couldn’t be attached to her brain, then Felicity didn’t want the damn thing.

“What?  How?”  And, now, Oliver was back to being shocked and confused.  Frak.

“I came…” Great, now that she burst out with that particular bombshell, Felicity had another thing to explain.  God, her head hurt.  “I went looking for you to…oh, it doesn’t matter now, but I started to realize how messed up my thinking was and the last thing in the world I wanted for you was to take the goddamn  _Bratva mission_ ,” she spat the last out part in disgust, “so I tried to stop you from going.  But I was too late.”

Always too late.  Just like with the translations.  Too late.  Not good enough.  Why did the stakes always have to be so damn high?

“I…”  Oliver shook his head.  “I wish you had said something.”

She had tried but…  “I was too late,” Felicity repeated.  It was the only response that was fair to give.  She refused to make excuses.  All she deserved was to take the blame.  She couldn’t look Oliver in the eye, but then…she couldn’t  _not,_ either.   The eye contact was painful.  It felt like she was being pulled into those deep blue eyes, being sucked dry.

Oliver’s jaw clenched and he looked away.  Felicity watched his Adam’s apple bob and tears filled her eyes.  She wished…

Why had she even brought up Russia?  Couldn’t she have stuck to the weather?  It felt like rain.  The air was thick and it had that smell…surely that would have been a good topic of conversation.  Important even.  It was hurricane season after all and they were damn close to the equator.

Things had been going so well.  They had almost been interacting as friends before Felicity had gone and ruined it with her mindless confessions.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity whimpered, not sure if she meant for ruining what might have been a half-way decent evening or the laundry list of sins that led up to it.

The corner of Oliver’s lip tipped up.  “You don’t have to be.”

And Felicity laughed, because no statement had ever been  _more_  false.  She didn’t have to be?  Showed how little Oliver knew.  Though maybe he was just being polite.  “Oh, but I do.  There are not enough sorries in the world.  And, now, I think…I think I just made it all worse.”

“No,” Oliver breathed, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, his eyes unfocused and…away.  “I’m glad you told me.  I wish you had…”  He sighed.  “Thank you for telling me.”

Felicity laughed a bitter little laugh.  Moira Queen would be so proud of her little boy’s manners.  A tear pushed its way free and Felicity was quick to swipe it away before he saw.  She wouldn’t burden Oliver with that as well.  “Trust me, you have  _nothing_  to thank me for.”

“Well…”  Oliver stood up and dusted himself off before, incredibly, holding out his hands to Felicity.  “Then how about you start making it up to me by eating my chili.”

Felicity took his hands gratefully, allowing him to pull her to her feet.  If eating Oliver’s chili was her penance, she would gladly do it, even if it made her eyes water and her mouth numb for days after.

But she must have made a face, because Oliver broke out into a teasing grin and Felicity’s shoulders slumped with relief.  Maybe she hadn’t ruined  _everything_.

“Well,” Oliver whispered, leaning in and, believe it or not, taking on that flirty tone again.  “I  _may_  have stashed away a batch for you and Cait  _before_ I added the really good stuff.  I wouldn’t want to mess with those delicate stomachs of yours.”

Felicity’s heart fluttered and she felt her eyes fill with tears again.  She was having trouble letting go of Oliver’s hands.  Because, god, that was  _so_ sweet and thoughtful and he was the most prefect man and she really didn’t have the right to  _speak_  to him, but miraculously, after everything, he was still speaking to her.

Looking at his playful smile, Felicity actually felt a spark of hope.  She had gotten half her story out and disaster hadn’t struck.  Oliver was smiling at her.  Maybe it could all be okay.

Yeah and, maybe, those two boys would just  _love_  the chili.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167301488125/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-5))
> 
> Palenque Park in Mexico does close every day at 4:30 pm and I had a very difficult time finding pictures of any of the Mayan ruins after dark. The photograph of Palenque Palace at the beginning of this chapter (where Felicity and Oliver have their conversation) was a day picture whose light I adjusted.
> 
> For anyone who doesn’t know, it is DC Comic cannon that Oliver Queen makes a chili so hot it makes Superman cry and only he and Bruce Wayne can eat it.  I actually found the recipe and plan to post it with the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you for everyone who has stuck with me through all the angst and pain. I think we’re through the worst of it. The next two chapters are lighter and more fun, a break from the angst and (for the most part) plot.  There’s a lot of bonding.
> 
> After that, The Olicity Fic Big Bang is starting August 29 and I have  _Of Redemption and Inebriation_  coming out then, a five chapter (finished!!) post -season 4 reconciliation piece that’s fun and smutty and full of alcohol and few surprises.
> 
> None of this would be possible without the hard work and support of **fairytalehearts** and **ireland1733** , and the kind encouragement of readers like you.
> 
> Don’t forget to let me know what you think. You can also find me at:  
>  http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/  
>  (where I post teasers for my stories and plan to start posting videos relevant to the story next week.)
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	7. Chapter 6: Palenque Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> I envisioned this scene taking place in a space very similar to the Grand Ballcourt I once visited in Chichen Itza.  Later, while researching, I realized that the ballcourt at Palenque is very different and, frankly, wouldn’t work. So instead of scrapping the scene, I’m asking anyone who knows this area of the world well to suspend their disbelief as I basically superimpose Chichen Itza’s ballcourt in Palenque.
> 
> We’ll just say it’s a different universe.
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

 

_September 16, 2016_  
_20:46_  
_Palenque Ruins, Mexico_

 

The walk back to camp wasn’t  _too_  awkward.  A little quiet at first, sure, but…it could have been worse.  Okay, maybe, it was quiet for about five seconds before Felicity couldn’t handle it anymore and started rambling.

It wasn’t terrible though.  She didn't make even one accidental inappropriate innuendo…she thought.  Well, if she did, Oliver was too much of a gentleman to call her out on it.  But Felicity was pretty sure it was a half-way intelligent conversation.

They even managed to have a short debate on how smart it was to have an enormous campfire in the middle of a Mayan ballcourt (though she doubted any of the others had any idea that it was a ballcourt and just saw it as an open field surrounded by tall walls that were easily defended).

Felicity argued that the evenings, while less oppressive, were still pretty damn hot and the heat from the fire was not only unnecessary, but vastly uncomfortable.  And there was the question of the wisdom of a giant fire serving as a beacon to their enemies. 

Oliver didn’t so much argue her points as smile indulgently and point out Digg felt that since they hadn’t really begun the  _stealthy_  part of their mission yet and, since it was their last night they could have a real meal, it was safe enough. 

So maybe it was less of a debate and more Felicity complaining and Oliver indulging her.  That didn’t stop her from also pointing out that they were all going to melt just because John had missed Oliver’s cooking.  And she thought that, maybe, that made Oliver smile so…win.  As rambles went, she’d had more embarrassing ones.  In the last hour for example. 

Distracted, Felicity hadn’t had time to decide whether she was angry and Caitlin and Curtis (mostly Caitlin since she was her best friend and should know better) for sending Oliver after her or not.  The last thing Felicity needed in her life was her friends making a complicated situation  _more_ convoluted by playing matchmaker, even if it was with the best of intentions.

When they got to the courtyard Felicity saw Caitlin giving her a  _knowing_  look.  She was almost smirking as she watched Felicity and Oliver walk in side by side, as if she were so proud of herself and her match-making skills.

And Felicity decided,  _yes_ , she  _was_  going to be angry with her, because… _seriously_?  What the frak?  With everything that Cait knew, one would think she’d have better sense than to try to play cupid.

It only took one look from Felicity and Caitlin hurried over to join her, stepping away from the others.  But any best friend sixth sense apparently ended there, because Cait blatantly ignored the annoyed look on Felicity’s face and grinned, asking in an almost sing-song voice, “So, how’d it go?”

“Terribly,” Felicity hissed, quietly, but with considerable heat as she grabbed Cait’s arm and pulled her away from the group.  Felicity was feeling spiteful as the conversation with Oliver started to replay in her mind and the anxiety about his reaction to her stupid impulsive words resurfaced.  “ _Horribly_.  What were you  _thinking_?”

Caitlin blanched, her eyes widening.  “Nothing, I…I wasn’t thinking any...what happened?”

She wasn’t thinking?   _That_  was for sure.  And as for what happened?  Well, Felicity babbled like fool, told Oliver she believed in ghosts, insulted him, insinuated that she had wanted him out of her life and to move on without her…which was true, but only in the most idiotic self-sacrificing way…which she did  _not_  say.  Though given five more minutes she probably would have, since her filter when it came to him was pretty much non-existent. 

“I made everything worse,” was what Felicity finally told Caitlin.

Her friend winced, then lowered her voice and asked, “Did you  _tell_  him?”

“Not  _that_.”  Though, maybe Felicity should have.  A few minutes ago, keeping it to herself had seemed the right thing to do, but now that Oliver wasn’t next to her…god, she wasn’t sure of anything.   And her anxiety over what  _he_  was thinking was growing rapidly.

Maybe telling Oliver about the hysterectomy would have made it better.  Somehow.  Maybe it would have made it so much worse.  Felicity just didn’t know anymore. 

“I told him pretty much everything else, though.  In a  _completely_  incomprehensible way. Now he probably thinks I’m a basket-case  _and_  that I dumped him on a whim,” Felicity whimpered, as she vented at poor Caitlin, who may or may not deserve it.  

But, good _god_ , Felicity prayed that she had been able to convince Oliver that it wasn’t a whim, because the idea of him believing that, of him believing that she had never really loved him… that was  _unthinkable_.  And, given everything, absurd.

“Why, oh  _why_  would you try to play matchmaker?” Felicity demanded, because while she was sure Caitlin’s intentions were good, she  _knew_  how difficult the situation is.   “You know how complicated—”

“I wasn’t—”

Felicity cut Cait off with her best accusatory glare.

But Caitlin shook her head, whispering furiously, “Really, I wasn’t.  I won’t deny that I have hopes you two will…look, Curtis and I were discussing,  _not_  with Oliver, with _each other_ …though, we weren’t trying to hide anything either…we were talking about which one of us, as in _me_ or _Curtis_ , should go find you and make you come to dinner.  Oliver just hopped up and said he’d do it.  Honestly, we were all shocked, but no one was going to tell him ‘ _no_.’”

Oh.  Well.  That changed things. 

Not only in that it kind of cleared Curtis and Caitlin of being overprotective and manipulative, but…well…it also put a whole different light on Oliver coming to see her.  He really _had_ volunteered.  As in  _actually_  sought Felicity out.  Without anyone else proposing the idea to him.  Wow.  Had he  _wanted_  to see her?  Just to…be around her?

“Did it really go that bad?”  Caitlin whispered.  She was wringing her hands and now Felicity’s guilt started to climb. 

Felicity had been pretty unfair.  Especially when, in the end, she was actually glad Oliver had sought her out, even if her verbal incontinence had almost ruined everything.

“No,” Felicity admitted, deflating.  In truth, some parts had actually gone almost…well.  She thought.  Hopefully.  “I’m sorry for blowing up at—”

“That’s okay,” Caitlin interrupted immediately.  “I  _have_  been pushing a lot and it’s probably unfair.  Just because I’m ready to get back on the horse, doesn’t mean you are.  I need to remember that.”

“Oh, Cait,” Felicity sighed, just the idea made her anxious.  And tired.  So tired.  “I don’t know if I’ll  _ever_  be ready to get back on that particular horse.  I’m kind of done with horses.”  And the only horse she could even imagine being interested in was most likely done with her for good. Or, at least, would be once he knew everything.  “I’m…wait.  What do you mean  _you’re_  ready?”

Had Felicity caught that right?  And if she  _had_ , then why was this the first time she was hearing about it?

Caitlin’s blush told her that, yes, Felicity had heard  _exactly_  right.  “That was one of the reasons I agreed to come back,” Cait confessed.  “I needed to exercise my daemons.  Get closure.  It’s been  _five years_ , Felicity.  I can’t stay a widow forever.  I don’t  _want_  to.  I’m not even 30.”

And, instantaneously, Felicity felt terrible.  Why was she always thinking only about herself?  “I know.  I know.  Of course.  That’s what Ronnie would want.  You should totally start dating again.”

And even as she said what she _knew_ was the right thing to say, the supportive best friend thing, Felicity’s stomach dropped.  

For five years, Caitlin had been  _her_  person.  As much as she pretended she wanted to be alone, she never had to be, because Cait had always been there for her.  And, while she knew this wasn’t Caitlin abandoning her, it…if Cait had  _another_  person, where would that leave Felicity?

Caitlin’s face screwed up and she blurted out, “I already have?”

Was that a question or…?  Oh, god, it was a  _confession_. 

“You have?” Felicity parroted, like an idiot, because she was confused and selfish and why _hadn’t_ Cait told her?  Was it  _that_  obvious that Felicity would have a hard time with this?  She was the worst best friend ever.  No wonder Cait wanted someone else in her life.

Nodding, Caitlin whispered, “Yes…I started…yes.”

She’d known what Cait meant, but still Felicity felt a little sick to her stomach.  “Who?”  Because she had  _no_  idea.  How could she have  _no_  idea?

Caitlin’s face scrunched up again, her pert little nose wrinkling as she confessed in a tiny voice, “Barry.”

“Barry?   _Our_  Barry?” 

Caitlin nodded and the sense of relief that washed over Felicity was ridiculous.  Because, okay, _that_ made sense.  Phew.  Wow, she wasn’t  _that_  out of the loop.

Felicity knew Caitlin and Barry were close, even flirty.   And, while, Felicity hadn’t really thought about it before, since her mind just generally avoided the subject of romance at all costs, now that she  _did_  think about it, it completely made sense.   There was some great chemistry there. 

Actually, she’d had a passing thought that Barry had a crush on Cait a while ago, Felicity just hadn’t realized that the feelings were returned.  Well, the truth was she hadn’t thought Caitlin was over Ronnie.   How did someone get over losing the love of their life?  If there was an answer Felicity certainly didn’t know it.

But, also, thank  _goodness_ , because Barry was one of them.  He wasn’t going to steal Caitlin away from them, from Felicity.  They could all stay in The Cave.  Not much had to change.  Felicity couldn’t take anymore change.

“That’s great, Cait!” Felicity breathed, wondering if her relief was evident in her smile.  “Barry’s an amazing guy.”

Cait bit her lip almost shyly. “You think?”

Felicity nodded and her smile, for once, wasn’t forced.  “Of course.  He’s  _Barry_.  I love Barry…well, not like  _you_  love Barry.  Obviously.  Like as a brother.  Me, I mean.  But not you.  You are clearly having not so sisterly…it’s a great match.”  Okay, she was going to end this now, before it stopped being cute.  “I’m happy for you both.”

Caitlin broke out in a wide grin, grabbing Felicity’s arms and bouncing just a smidge on her toes.  “Oh good, because I really, _really_ like him Felicity.  And I never thought…”

Felicity pulled her in for a hug, not wanting her to have to say it.  “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered into Caitlin’s neck, tears burning her eyes.  Happy tears.  Or were they tears of regret? 

Or maybe Felicity was mourning the happy ending she had once seen for herself but had flitted from her grasp.

“Thank you.” Caitlin gave her one last tight hug, before pulling back and brushing beneath her own wet eyes.  “Did things really go  _that_  badly with Oliver?”

“Cait…” Felicity sighed, a new realization dawning.  “You don’t have to worry about me. You’re allowed to find love, even if I don’t.”

But her friend was already shaking her head.  “That’s not why—”

“Then why didn’t you  _tell_  me?”  Felicity questioned quietly, because that still kind of stung.  She would have been supportive of Cait dating, especially  _Barry_  of all people.

Caitlin shrugged, her happy expression dimming.  “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you.”  She looked away.  “I felt guilty, I guess.”

“Because of me and Oliver?”

“ _Nooo_ ,” Caitlin reassured quickly.  Then her eyes shifted away.  “Because of Ronnie.”

“Oh.”  Well.  Now Felicity  _really_  felt bad.  “Oh, Sweetie, Ronnie wouldn’t want you to be alone.  He’d want you to be happy.  That’s all he ever wanted for you.”

“I know, but…” Caitlin caught a tear with her thumb as it slipped from the corner of her eye, then seemed to force herself to smile and look back at Felicity.  “Well, that’s what this trip is about for me.  On a personal level.  Saying goodbye.”

Felicity didn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiled sympathetically and gave Caitlin’s shoulder a squeeze.

“And,” Caitlin added, “my wanting you to work things out with Oliver has  _nothing_  to do with me feeling guilty that I… _might_  be finding love again and  _everything_  to do with you being my best friend and so very obviously still in love with him—”

“Shhh,” Felicity gasped, blindsided by how quickly the conversation had turned back to her.  Her eyes darted around to make sure no one overheard.  She didn’t even bother to deny it, though.  What would be the point?

Caitlin, however, looked completely unconcerned by the fact that the team was  _right_ _there.  “_ And he is just as  _obviously_ still in love with you.”  That brought Felicity’s eyes, and full attention, snapping back to Cait.  “You are both good people who deserve to be happy.”

“Cait…” But then, Felicity bit her cheek to keep from saying more, because it was on the tip of her tongue to ask Caitlin how she knew Oliver still had feelings for her, to demand evidence.  God, she felt like a teenager again.  The next thing she knew she’d be asking Cait to go ask Oliver if he ‘liked’ her.

But why  _did_  Caitlin think Oliver still had feelings for her?  And didn’t it mean something that she did.   Cait was awfully perceptive.

“So,” Cait whispered conspiratorially, seeming to enjoy this high school vibe Felicity was feeling and embracing it fully, “Tell me everything.  I’m sure we can figure this out…”

The last thing Felicity wanted to do was tell her  _everything_.  She was barely okay with _something_.  “It wasn’t that bad,” she conceded, hoping she wouldn’t have to say much more than that.  “There were good parts.”  Parts when Felicity felt incredibly  _connected_  to Oliver, when it had felt normal and real and beautiful.  “When I wasn’t unintentionally spewing truth bombs.”  Or half-truth bombs.

Caitlin shook her head, like she simultaneously couldn’t believe her  _and_  recognized her behavior for classic Felicity Smoak.  “You know what your problem is?  You are just the _worst_ liar.  It’s just not in your make-up to lie and keep things from people.  You are a natural sharer.”

Didn’t Felicity know it.  It might seem ironic, given the secrets she’d been keeping, but Caitlin couldn’t be more right.  “Why do you think I avoided everyone after Tikal?  Five minutes alone and I start confessing.  You don’t even have to interrogate me,” Felicity whispered furiously, “I just start spewing.  You should have heard all the stupid stuff I’ve said to Oliver in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Well, that just makes me want to lock you two in a room together,” Caitlin whispered back just as fiercely, her frustration obvious.  “Because you need to clear the air, Felicity.  Get it all out there.”

Caitlin didn’t understand. 

“The truth will only make things worse,” Felicity muttered.

“Not nec—”

“Chili’s on!”  Digg called and Felicity breathed a sigh of relief.  Looked like she was going to get a short reprieve in explaining to Cait exactly  _why_ Oliver wasn’t ready to hear everything.  It was a painful subject and she’d had her fill of those for one day. 

Or the  _next_  five years.

“Oh good, I’m starving,” Felicity announced, turning to walk over to the sweltering fire, sure she wasn’t fooling Caitlin  _at all_.   Felicity was never ‘starving.’

But she did find a spot that had a good view of Curtis and Puppy.  A girl needed to get her kicks somewhere, especially after a day like today.  Cait came and sat next to her, shooting her a disgruntled look that made it clear that the conversation may be on pause, but it was far from over. 

Felicity smiled at her, because the stay of execution was good enough for her.  Plus, she was certain that Cait was really going to enjoy this particular show.

Digg hammed it up, making a big show of passing around Oliver’s chili and talking about how it was a team favorite from the good old days, which was all true.  Slade and Sara took it up a notch, eating it without reacting to the extreme heat.  In fact, one would think it was the best thing they’d ever tasted.  Felicity shared a sideways look with a confused Cait and swallowed a giggle. 

Oliver said nothing, just worked over his masterpiece.  But when the light from the fire hit his face just right, Felicity could see the amusement in his blue eyes.  

He was the one to serve Felicity and Caitlin, handing them mess bowls with thick chunks of skillet cornbread and giving them a discreet wink before returning to the fire.  Felicity tried  _really_  hard not to be distracted by the beads of sweat forming on his neck and forehead.

“Oh. My. God. He didn’t,” Caitlin whispered under her breath.  Then she took a small, careful bite, her eyes widening.  “He  _did_!”  And only Cait could manage to both exclaim and whisper at the same time.  “Oliver made you a  _non-lethal_  batch of chili.”

Felicity shrugged, keeping her eyes on her chili and hoping the dim lighting hid her blush.  “He made  _us_  a non-lethal batch,” she corrected quietly, then saved herself from further conversation by taking a large spork full (they only have sporks on these kind of missions, less gear). 

Good god, it was even better than Felicity remembered.  The man really should have been a chef.  The version Oliver made for them was still spicy, just not five-alarm, melt-the-paint-off-the-barn-wall spicy.  Honestly, it was perfection.  And the cornbread…Felicity hummed to herself as she took another bite.

“Felicity,” Caitlin hissed in her ear, “there is  _no way_  that man over there made a separate batch of his  _famous_  chili for  _me_.  I’m just reaping the rewards of being with you.   _Look_  at him!”

As if Felicity wasn’t already discretely staring at him as she ate.  The firelight suited him and the sweat gave him an indecent sheen.  Oliver looked so… _manly_  tending the fire and the large pot like some sort of cowboy out on the range.  The man was a walking wet-dream.

Oliver sent her a glance, one that lingered, and Felicity held his glaze, smiling as she tasted his food, hoping he understood it for what it was, a compliment and a thank you.  His small answering smile showed her that he did.

Caitlin must have caught the looks passing between them, because she leaned closer and hissed, “If  _this_  doesn’t prove that he is still in love with you, then I don’t know what does.  You’d have to be blind not to see it.”

Felicity wished she wasn’t still trading looks with Oliver, because there was no way that he didn’t see the interaction and the way she flushed over Caitlin’s words. 

“It’s just chili,” Felicity muttered, but no one was buying it. 

Luckily, Caitlin decided not to argue further, though, because the show was about to begin. 

Digg served Roy and Curtis last and together.  And everyone waited.  Even Oliver.  He served himself and sat down casually, eating his chili with no reaction what-so-ever.

Felicity had tried  _that_  chili before.  And she knew it for what it was.  Her team, save her and Caitlin (the only sane ones), took great pleasure in not showing any reaction to pain (and it _was_ painful).  This was a pissing match.  A game.  Something like walking on hot coals or stitching up their own wounds without anesthesia.  Every one of them took great pride in their pain tolerance and tried to one up each other at every opportunity.

Roy took a bite first, his eyes going wide.  But, to his credit, that was his only reaction.  After he swallowed…and, damn, that first bite must  _hurt_ , he just said stiffly, “It’s good.”

His eyes were watering though.  Roy must already be catching on.  Felicity supposed that three years in hell with Oliver must count for something.  He may have even endured torture of some kind for all she knew.  It seemed Roy knew exactly what was expected of an ARGUS Special Ops.  Yes, Puppy was going to fit in just fine.  Felicity was almost proud.

Curtis, on the other hand…

“Whoa!”

He jumped out of his seat with the first bite.  Which, to be fair, had been rather large.   “Frak!  What the hell is this?  This isn’t food this is… _Wildfire_!  Where’s the bloody Imp?” Curtis stuck out his tongue, panting and frantically rubbing his palm over it to remove the…toxins, maybe?

It was a show worthy of Ringling Brothers.  Caitlin was doubled over with laughter (which may also have been because she was the only other person there who understood the  _Game of Thrones_  reference).  But everyone else was  _at least_  chuckling.  Very much at Curtis’ expense.  Felicity bit her lip, not wanting to take too much pleasure in her friend’s pain.  Well, not visibly anyway.

She looked up and met Oliver’s eyes and saw he was fighting a pleased smile.  Felicity swore he enjoyed making people cry with his chili even more than he enjoyed making them smile with the rest of his cooking.  In this small way, he was a bit of a sadist.

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Slade called out.  “Even the girls can eat this!”

Felicity ignored Slade’s trademark sexism.  It was part of his shtick.  Something that not one of them bought, not after years of watching him treat Shado like the queen she was.  And, for all his bite, not only did they all know that Slade would take a bullet for each and every one of them, but he never dismissed a word one of his ‘girls’ said. 

Disrespectful words flowed from his mouth like acid, but if you looked at his actions, it was clear as glass that Slade Wilson not only admired strong woman but worshipped the ground they walked on.  Weakness, however, he reviled.

Sara knew all this better than anyone.  After Caitlin and Felicity left the team and Oliver went to Russia, Slade and Sara became partners on more missions than not.  So Felicity knew it was playful rivalry and not real malice that had Sara sending a pebble flying and bouncing off of Slade’s forehead. 

“Hey, don’t forget this  _girl_  can out drink you, outlast you, and take you  _down_.”

Besides walking on hot coals and eating Oliver’s chili, being able to hold one’s liquor was a key factor to one’s worth in Special ops.

Slade’s only reaction to the stone was a narrowed eye.  “I’ll take that challenge, darl.  But I wasn’t talking about you.” 

Slade and Sara had always had an interesting relationship, enjoying taunting and one upping the other.  Neither ever really taking offense.  Felicity could imagine that must have morphed into a strong brother-sisterly bond with all the time they’d spent together over the last five years.

Slade sent a hard look over to Curtis and jerked his thumb at Sara.  “ _This one_ doesn’t count.  She’s got lava running through her veins.  Barely human.” 

The kind of brother-sister bond that make parents want to drive the minivan into the river after a twenty-minute drive with them in the back seat.

“I was talking about  _those_  two,” Slade gestured to Cait and Felicity this time, his lips tipping up in challenge.   “The  _actual_  delicate, female types.”

Sara looked like she was ready to let another rock fly but she then shrugged, seeming to decide to take it as a compliment, and went back to her chili.  When push came to shove, Sara was one of the guys.

“You know, I can stop your heart a dozen different ways without even touching you, right?”  Caitlin asked sweetly, apparently deciding it was her turn to defend ‘delicate female types’ everywhere, if Sara wasn’t going to do it.

Ah well, Felicity was part of the team too.  And sometimes sisters just had to take their brother _down_.

“And I could probably target you with a missile via satellite in less than a minute,” Felicity added, cause, hey, it was true.  They were both deadly in their own way.  And they were decidedly  _not_  delicate, even if they  _did_  have their own batch of non-lethal chili.

“Oi, didn’t say you weren’t deadly and brilliant.  Just that you were delicate female types.  It’s a compliment.”  And in his Slade-way, Felicity was certain it was.  Then before they could argue further, Slade turned back to poor Curtis, who still had his tongue out flapping in the air like a golden retriever.  “But  _you_ , boy-o, are even more delicate than those too.  Pansy boy, we’d call you back home.”

It was offensive and Felicity had to wonder if Slade knew that Curtis was gay.  But she also knew that it had nothing to do with sexuality and everything to with being a hard-as-nails field agent. Slade couldn’t care less what  _anyone’s_  sexuality was.  Anyone but Shado, that was.

Plus, torturing Curtis was fun.  So on team solidarity (old team, not Cave team.  Cave team would still be mocking anyone who didn’t get the  _Game of Thrones_  reference), they turned to Curtis and, together, Felicity and Caitlin made a show of taking great big bites of chili, making Sara and Digg laugh out loud.  Felicity had to wonder if they knew the real spice level of their chili.

“No way!” Curtis gaped.  “How can you stand it?  Is this why you never eat?  Your taste buds have been burned off?” he demanded of Felicity.

Felicity didn’t have a chance to respond to that one, as Oliver took  _clear_  offense, turning on Curtis with a, “Hey!” and a pointed finger that must have been just about the scariest thing Curtis had ever seen, because he jumped back, hands up, looking like he was about to pee his pants. 

Felicity just about choked, the laughter simply wouldn’t stay in.  But maybe that was just her delight at being defended by Oliver.  And for something so ridiculous too.  “Try it with the cornbread,” she offered, between sniggers.  “It’s delicious.”  Hers was anyway.

Roy cleared his throat and offered, his voice sounding a little raw, “It’s good.  You just need to get used to it.”

Digg laughed and clapped Roy on the back.  “You, my boy, have passed the test.”

“Oh, thank  _god_ ,” Roy gasped, letting out a breath.  “Anyone got water?”

There was a round of laughter and even Oliver chuckled as he threw Roy a bottle.

But Digg turned to Curtis, his face a hard mask (that was completely for show. Probably). “ _You_  are lucky you’re an Engineer.”

“You mean this is a  _joke_?”  Curtis looked like he couldn’t decide if he was offended or impressed.

“Nope,” Oliver answered, completely straight-faced as he took a big bite of the stuff, seeming to roll it around on his tongue.  Felicity was convinced that it was self-flagellation that made him love it so much. “ _This_  is my famous chili.  Separates the men from the boys.”

“And the women?” Caitlin asked with a smirk, which Felicity thought was rather brave of her.

But Oliver winked at her.  “Women are inherently superior.  They don’t need to be separated out.”

“Good answer, Ollie,” Sara nodded, approvingly, scooting closer to give her old friend a shoulder bump in praise.

“Kiss up,” Slade muttered, looking pointedly at Felicity, clearly implying he thought she was the person he was ‘kissing up’ to. 

Felicity, for her part, did her best to avoid all their gazes, particularly Oliver’s.  Though, she couldn’t help the pleasure humming through her from Oliver’s words. 

She didn’t need to worry about further attention though.  Slade wasn’t done torturing poor Curtis.  “Engineer or no…I say that we give Cisco a chance to try the chili when we get back.”

The insinuation was clear.  Slade didn’t think Curtis was up to snuff.  He was replaceable.  With his biggest rival.  Not to mention his best friend.  Felicity was impressed at Slade’s ability to find and zero in on Curtis’ weak spot so quickly.  But then again, she expected nothing less.

The Engineer’s eyes flashed and Felicity could see he was starting to lose it, which was Slade’s (and maybe Digg and Sara’s) intention all along.  “Cisco’s Hispanic,” Curtis bit out. “He probably had habanero mixed in with his baby food.”

Digg shrugged dismissively and no one who didn’t know him well would have any idea that he was teasing.  “Then you better work on your tolerance, man.”

And for some stupid-ass reason, Curtis actually took that challenge, shoving a huge spork full of chili in his mouth.  Oliver was right.  Woman must be inherently superior, cause men… _so_  dumb.

“Water!”  Curtis gasped, tears forming in his eyes.

Laughing, Slade handed Curtis a flask.  “Good show, mate.  Drink.”

Fumbling with the cap, Curtis took a long swallow before breaking off with a cough.  “Dear  _god_ , that’s just fuel for the fire!”

“Give here,” Roy demanded and Curtis readily released the flask to the younger man, who took a lengthy drink to the raucous cheers of the team (the Special Ops team), before he passed the flask to Sara on his left.

“Dude,” Curtis gaped, incredulous, “are your taste buds dead from some freak childhood accident or something?”

Roy shook his head, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand.  “Look, this shit is hot.” He paused to gulp down some water before handing the bottle to Curtis.  “But it sure as hell beats slapping water.  Outdoors.  In the middle of winter.  Do you know how cold the winters are in Russia?”

Felicity’s eyes flew to Oliver’s and they shared an amused smile, because she got that reference.

“Besides,” Roy added,  _voluntarily_  taking another bite, “have you eaten Russian food?  At least this stuff has flavor.”

By that point, Sara had passed the flask to Oliver and he raised it in Roy’s direction calling out, “Vashe zdorovie.” Which seemed to be Russian for ‘I agree’…or  _something._   And in a Russian accent that wasn’t something that  _should_  have caused a sharp spike of arousal the likes Felicity hadn’t felt in years.  But Oliver’s… _lordy_ , that was hot.

“Vashe zdorovie,” Roy agreed, presenting the water bottle to toast, since there seemed to be only one container of alcohol, which really was lax of Slade.  He was normally so much better prepared.

But when Oliver tipped the flask to his lips he froze after the first mouthful, lowering it slowly before asking, “Guatemalan Rum?”

Oh god.  Felicity’s heart skipped a beat and she couldn’t look at Oliver.  Seriously?  Just when things were starting to be a little smoother.   What did fate have against them?

“The very best,” Slade confirmed and Felicity had to remind herself that Slade wasn’t taunting them.  He couldn’t possibly know the significance of this particular type of rum.  There was no  _way_  that Oliver had shared this was the drink they had shared their last night together.  And really, if Oliver had, Felicity was certain that Slade would be bleeding by now.

When she was able to look at Oliver again…the look on his face and the tension in his body had Felicity’s heart racing.  Were those good memories or bad the rum was triggering?  God, that night…it had been an  _amazing_  night.  Before…

She was so busy staring like a love-sick fool that she barely noticed the flask had made its way to her until it was being pressed into her hands. 

Felicity drank without thinking and that same Guatemalan rum hit her taste buds like a Mack truck and she knew why Oliver had that reaction, because it was a very specific taste and with one sip Felicity was right back in that humid little room, drinking rum,  _this_  rum, off of his skin.

She could still remember the way Oliver’s tongue tasted drenched in the stuff…

Felicity quickly passed the flask to Caitlin, who laughed and pushed it toward Digg on Felicity’s other side, because apparently, they were going clockwise and not counter-clock… _whatever_. 

Jokes were being yelled out about her not being able to handle her liquor anymore.  Let them think that.  Felicity would never correct them.  What was she supposed to say?  That now all she could think about was kissing a rum drenched Oliver?  That it was a constant struggle to keep her eyes off of his lips?

It made it much harder to keep up with the conversation, but Felicity had a strong suspicion that Slade refilled that, not unsubstantial, flask multiple times as the night wore on, because before she knew it, the lot of them were drunk as skunks. (She should never have doubted Slade or his alcohol supply).

Then, the next thing Felicity knew, half of the them were shirtless, including Sara.   Though, fortunately, she was still wearing her sports bra and excluding Oliver,  _unfortunately_ , but also fortunately because the UST was starting to be painful.  The fact that Felicity and Oliver were avoiding the rum and may very well be the only sober ones left should have helped, but really really didn’t.

On the other end of the spectrum was Roy, who was drunkenly throwing pebbles at one of the great stone hoops twenty feet in the air.

“So what were these things used for anyway?” poor drunken Puppy asked, throwing another stone and missing.  He was, also unfortunately, still wearing a shirt.  Felicity had a feeling he would be pretty without a shirt, unlike Slade who looked like a great scarred bear.  But, then again, maybe she would have found him attractive if she didn’t think of him as a surly uncle.

“Pretty much what you are doing,” Caitlin answered.  She was stretched out beside Felicity, her head lulling on her shoulders as she watched the team’s antics. Cait had imbibed  _plenty_  of rum herself and Felicity was quite certain her tolerance was rather low, even if Barry had been secretly wining and dining her.

“Huh.”  Roy tilted his head at the hoop, considering it carefully.  Why were they letting him drink?  Was he even old enough?

Felicity leaned back on her elbows, crossing her ankles in front of her.  “This a ballcourt.  The ballgame was extremely important to the Mayans.”

“So, this thing is basically a thousand-year-old basketball hoop?” Roy asked, looking half-impressed, half-confused.

“Two-thousand-year-old,” Felicity corrected with a smile.  “And, yeah, except they hit the ball off their hips and the losers were usually ritually sacrificed.”

Roy dropped the stones.  “Seriously?”

“Sometimes, they even used the decapitated heads as balls,” Oliver added with an eyebrow waggle. 

The more Felicity saw the two interact the more she realized Roy was very much Oliver’s protégé.  Oliver treated him much as Digg had treated Oliver in their early days, simultaneously protective and hard on him, constantly ribbing him, yet understatedly affectionate.

Felicity raised her brows at Oliver and he shrugged.  “What?  Sometimes, I listened.”  And she had to suppress a smile, because she knew he listened much more than he pretended to.

“Wait,” Curtis added, “that’s  _true_?”

Nodding, Felicity looked over at poor Curtis, his glasses askew and his eyes rum glazed.  Even his hair was messier than usual, if such a thing was even possible.  “Some archaeologists believe so.  Though it is much more likely the Aztecs did that.  They were a far more blood thirsty group.”

“Awesome.”  Roy made a face, looking around the court, which was the size of a football field with twenty-five-foot-high walls on either side, the full length of the field.  “Where did everyone sit?”

Oliver approached him and put an arm around Roy’s shoulder and Felicity just  _knew_  he was up to something.  “See, up there,” he pointed to the top of the wide wall.  “They stood up there.  When things got rowdy they would shove people supporting the losing team over just to see if they would survive the fall.”

Roy’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to Felicity and Cait with a questioning expression, but as soon as he turned his head, Oliver gave him a shove between the shoulder blades, hard enough for Roy to yelp, but not enough to send him flying. 

“Hey!” Roy yelled as Oliver chuckled and Digg high-fived him in approval.  And so the legacy went on. 

And, while Felicity’s heart was warmed just by watching Oliver be playful with Roy, she couldn’t let Puppy suffer.  “They did  _not_ ,” she told poor horrified Puppy, shooting an unrepentant Oliver a reproving look.  “Well, the commoners likely stood up there to watch, but the only sacrifices were the ballplayers and that was likely only on special occasions.”

“Some way to celebrate a holiday.  Why would anyone want to be a ball player?” Curtis asked, eyeing the hoop with an engineer’s critical gaze.   Then he jumped when his voice echoed back to him and around the field.  “Whoa!”

“The acoustics here are one of the great engineering marvels of all time,” Caitlin told him with a nostalgic smile.  Ronnie had been absolutely fascinated by the phenomenon.  “The Royals and Nobles would sit up there,” she pointed to the end of the field where there was a pavilion they were using to store some of their stuff, next to the tents.  “They could hear the game perfectly all the way over there.”

As they were contemplating the pavilion, Slade emerged from behind it bouncing a large rubber ball the size of a basketball.  “Look what I found.” 

“Slade, did you steal that from the trunk marked ‘Sólo Personal?’” Felicity called out, highly suspicious that that was the ball the Park used for reenactments.  It looked pretty true to at least the modern version of Mayan ball. 

Shrugging unapologetically (and basically admitting it was true), Slade grinned and asked, “Who’s up for a game?”

And, apparently, the answer was pretty much everyone.  Which was ridiculous since no one had the first clue how to play.  Years ago, they had watched re-enactments as a team, but those were on very different courts where the hoop was much lower and attached to a sloped wall, making the whole hip shot much easier to manage.

But regardless, soon Felicity and Caitlin were on the sidelines cheering and laughing, watching their friends take a valiant shot at Mayan Ball and making no move to participate, because there was no way in hell she was going to humiliate herself trying to play this stupid-ass game.  Especially when Felicity was watching six of the most athletic and physically gifted people on the planet making complete fools of themselves.

It took them awhile and many  _many_  face-plants to figure out how to bounce the heavy ball off of their hips.  But the wipe-outs and face-plants soon became part of their game and every time a player hit the ground they had to take another drink (something Felicity was certain was not a part of the original Mayan version).  One would think that it would affect their coordination, but it didn’t seem to.

The humidity never dipped and eventually the holdouts took off their shirts too.  Felicity almost got a face full of rubber ball when Oliver pulled his off and used it to wipe his very sweaty face.  Luckily, Cait reached over and snatched the ball before it plowed into her nose.

Oliver frowned when he saw what had happened, slapping his hand on the back of an even drunk _er_ Roy’s head for the sin of letting the ball fly in her direction. “Watch it!”

Felicity hoped it was actually Roy’s fault.  She’d been too distracted to see who dropped that particular ball.  And, also, was it weird that she thought it was sweet that Oliver still got angry over her  _almost_  getting hurt?  That was weird, right?

Holding the ball in her hands, Caitlin tested its weight.  “This thing is seriously going to bruise, guys.”

Felicity frowned, her eyes instantly going to the skin covering Oliver’s hip bones, the ones that were now peeking out and driving her insane.  “I think the Mayans did have padding or shields or something.”

Oliver sauntered (yes, she wasn’t making that up, it was a saunter) over and snatched the ball out of Caitlin’s hands.  But he grinned down at Felicity when he said, “I think we can handle it.”

Oh frak.  Oliver had clearly caught her eyes wondering and…he didn’t seem to mind one bit.  Felicity was in so much trouble.

Oliver threw the ball down, hard, causing it to bounce, then jumped, his arms in the air as he hip slammed the ball, sending it flying, and…lord in heaven that should be illegal it was such a gorgeous sight.  Without his shirt on…it might as well be porn.

The ball went nowhere near the hoop, however.  It just bounced off the wall and someone else caught it with  _their_  hip.  

Felicity found it a lot less interesting when it was someone else’s hip.

After thirty incredibly amusing (and absurdly arousing) minutes of not making a single goal, Caitlin leaned over and whispered into Felicity’s ear, “Is this really the way the Mayan’s played?”

When her brain caught up with Caitlin’s words (Cait couldn’t possibly understand how distracting those hip bones were) Felicity’s eyes widened, “Ummm…now that you mention it, I think they used their elbows and shoulders too for this particular court.”

That sent Caitlin into a fit of giggles that had her rolling on the ground, her face buried in Felicity’s lap.  It took a while for the players to notice, but when they did Digg turned on them, dripping with sweat (Felicity had to admit, he always looked good without his shirt too.  Father figure or not), hands on hips, and leveled them a stare. 

“Care to share with the class?”

Felicity confessed the rules she had only just remembered, which lead to a string of curses from Slade that made even Curtis blush, which was a feat given his dark coloring. 

Sighing, Sara stepped forward and grabbed the ball.  “Fuck this!  Let’s just get the damn ball in the hoop anyway we can.”

Felicity would have called it quits and went to bed, but she supposed this was another way to handle the situation.

“So what are the rules?” Roy asked, sounding game.  No one protested.  Lord help them all.

One side of Sara’s lips tipped up and she gave him a challenging look.  “No rules.  Two teams.  One ball.  Whichever team gets the ball in the hoop more times wins.”

So…

It was Oliver, Roy, and Curtis vs Digg, Slade, and Sara in what quickly devolved into a game of tackle basketball and Felicity was seriously worried someone was going to have to be medevac’d out of there before this mission ever really started.  And if she had thought they wiped out a lot in the first version of this game…this one was downright  _vicious_.

It was fun to watch, Felicity’d give them that.  Heaven help the world if network tv ever caught wind to it.  The six of them moved so fast, it was hard to keep track of what was going on half the time, but they seemed to be having fun playing.  In an insanely competitive, scarily intense way.

Oliver’s team was winning.  They were all taller on average and had clearly spent more time in a basketball court than Slade and Sara so they had the advantage. 

It was after Oliver made his third ‘hoop’ (and, wow, he could jump and it was  _beautiful_ ), Roy and Curtis combined had tackled Digg to keep him out of the play and Oliver just out-reached Slade and Sara, slamming the ball through the ring, that was when Slade started gripping, “Goddamn, bloody American giants, the lot of you!  This isn’t skill!  This is fucking… _arm span_!”

Slade was  _not_  a good loser.  But then, Sara got a devious look on her face and called her partner over.  The next thing they all knew, Sara had climbed on Slade’s shoulders and, well…that was when shit got _real_.  

Digg’s team started wiping the floor with Oliver’s.

Now, Oliver…he was also a  _competitive_  man.  One might even argue more so than Slade.   With every hit Sara nailed from her perch on Slade’s shoulders, Oliver’s jaw muscles became tighter and tighter and the artery in his temple began to pulse.  He was taking this game (this  _utterly_ ridiculous game) very seriously. 

Oliver’s team tried several things to level the playing field, including Curtis on Roy’s shoulders (which was as asinine as it sounded).  They didn’t make a single goal, but they did stumble around humorously until Curtis finally hit the ground _.  Hard_.  And at an angle that left Cait wrapping up his Curtis’ ankle.

And the big dumb genius?  What did he yell?  “Whooo hooo…more rum for me!”

God help them if HIVE attacked.  Six of them drunk.  One with a busted ankle.  And at this rate, there were concussions and broken bones looming.

Slade laughed raucously, Sara still smirking from his shoulders.  Neither of them seemed to care that they were on a mission with the world held in the balance.  Nothing mattered until The Game was called.  “Are you ready to admit defeat, mate?”

It didn’t look good for Oliver’s team.  They were behind and now down a teammate, because it was seriously  _not_  worth risking Curtis’ ankle to win this stupid game and Felicity would have no trouble saying so.

But Oliver shot Slade an over-my-dead-body look and Felicity started to get nervous, because it looked like this game was going to last all night and possibly take a very nasty turn. 

What Felicity wasn’t expecting was Oliver to turn and stalk over to…

Oh... Dear… God….

Oliver held out his outstretched hands to Felicity.  “Come on, Sunshine, we need to kick Slade’s cocky ass back to Australia.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167307523607/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-6))
> 
> This chapter was a very tricky balance of too much/too little, when it came to history and details of the game.  I’m hoping it made sense, while still not being boring.  The Game was incredibly difficult to write (and I hate sports).  But my muse told me I had to write a scene where they played ball with Felicity of Oliver’s shoulders so…what the muse wants the muse gets.  She can be rather unreasonable sometimes.
> 
> I have (short) videos of both versions of the Mayan Ball Game, the hip only one on the sloped stadium and the elbow/shoulder version in the Grand Ball Court that this is modeled after.   I’m going to put links to both of those on my Tumblr site at the link above.
> 
> **Fairytalehearts** worked damn hard with me on the ball game in this and the next chapter to have in make sense and there are quite a few words in both that are hers, so I send her my unending gratitude.  And also to  **ireland1733**   for her unending support, not only with writing and my neuroticism, but when life just sucks. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who is reading and especially anyone who stops to leave a comment!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	8. Chapter 7: Palenque Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)
> 
> And for anyone who knows this area of the world well, the ball court described here is modeled after the Grand Ball Court in Chichen Itza and not the smaller one found in Palenque.  I appreciate your suspension of disbelief.  We’ll just say it’s a different universe. 

 

_September 16, 2016_  
_23:53_  
_Palenque Ruins, Mexico_

 

“Come on, Sunshine, we need to kick Slade’s cocky ass back to Australia.”

Felicity put her hand in Oliver’s without stopping to think.  Maybe it was the same instinct that had her step in front of that bullet in Tikal.  Or maybe it was the shocking use of his special name for her, the one she hadn’t heard in over five years.  But, whatever it was, she couldn’t _not_ take Oliver’s hands when they were offered to her.

Almost instantly, Felicity regretted her decision.  Not the touching him.  Never that.  (Well maybe _that_.  It certainly wasn’t good for her equilibrium).  But…when the shock and awe of the nickname and the beautiful hands reaching for her and the lovely timber of his voice cleared, Felicity realized exactly what Oliver intended and…

Oh  _hell_ no!

But for some reason, those words did not emerge from Felicity’s throat.  And before she could make them...

“Do you trust me?” Oliver asked, pulling her to her feet and Felicity was pretty sure she’d heard that in a Disney movie once, though she couldn’t remember which one.  It probably didn’t matter, since coming from Oliver’s lips they were just about impossible to say ‘no’ to.

She  _did_  wonder if it was trick question.  Was it a purposeful reference she should understand?  Or a manipulation?  Or…oh, it didn’t matter.  Oliver asked if Felicity trusted him and there was only one answer.

“Um… _sure_.” And, maybe, if Oliver wasn’t asking her to do something insane and humiliating and  _ridiculous_ , Felicity would have delivered it a tad more decisively.

Even so, he should take it as the compliment it was, because if anyone else tried to do what Oliver was about to do, Felicity would have laughed in their face.  Then probably hit them with her shoe.

Grinning, Oliver stepped behind her, manhandling her as if they still had  _that_  kind of relationship (and it was so easy and familiar it kind of felt like they did) and did he drink more than Felicity thought he had?  Because after everything that had happened between them, she had a really hard time understanding why he wanted anything to do with her.

“I haven’t become any  _more_  athletic, you know,” Felicity babbled, her nerves kicking in. “Remember me?   Felicity Smoak?  Awkward, clumsy, hates sports?  And…eeep!”

Oliver hoisted her up and before Felicity knew what was happening she was six feet taller and her thighs were resting on the shoulders she’d been admiring all night.  The bare shoulders.  The warm…strong…smooth…supple…

And, oh dear  _god_ , this was high and it was very dark and…

Crap. Crap.  Crap.   She was going to die!

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity whimpered, panicking as she frantically grabbed for something to hold on to, clutching his head and searching for a better grip.   “I don’t know about this!”  Which just might be code for, ‘Put me doooown!’

“Just hook your legs under my arms and behind my back,” Oliver instructed, calmly.  And Felicity was pretty sure that described a position they had tried in bed.  And out of bed.  More than once. 

It was very distracting.

But Oliver didn’t seem distracted at all.  How was  _he_  so nonchalant with all the touching and the double intenders and the half- _nakedness_?  Maybe Felicity should take off her shirt and she how he handled that!

Except, Oliver was clearly more focused on Slade and winning the stupid Game.  The one Felicity really should have put an end to hours ago.

“I won’t drop you,” Oliver promised.

“It’s not  _you_  I’m worried about,” Felicity squeaked as he began to move, her fingers winding into his hair to keep her balance, but before she could even feel bad about it, she realized that it was too short to pull on now.  That was disappointing. 

“You can do this,” Oliver encouraged, sounding certain.  And  _how_ , exactly, did he know this?  But, damn, he was single minded when he wanted to be and there was nothing this man wouldn’t do to win. 

“Uh huh,” Felicity tried to agree, but it came out more terrified than anything.  Because she wanted to help him, she did, and she wanted to prove him right, but…Oliver might have the reflexes of a jungle cat, but hers flat out sucked!

Oliver squeezed her calves in a reassuring way, one that absolutely did  _not_  cause a shot of desire to scurry across Felicity’s skin. 

Okay, it so did.  Why did Oliver have to be so goddamn sexy all the time?

Great, now Felicity was freaked out by being so high, completely unsure of her ability to play this game, never mind help them win,  _and_  aroused.   This was some kinda night.

But Oliver had just taken a huge step toward forgiveness and reconciliation when he initiated this, even if it was just in the name of friendship.   Which, of course, was all Felicity could possibly hope for. 

Even if it  _was_  just because Oliver was competitive as frak.  But if it was just that, Oliver could have chosen Caitlin.  But he chose Felicity, and…oh, she couldn’t read his mind, but she could…and  _would_  meet him halfway.  Anything to get him to forgive himself, right?  And maybe her in the process?  Even if she humiliated herself and maybe broke her neck a little.

Felicity made herself let go of her death grip on Oliver’s scalp, even though it made her feel exceedingly precarious and she didn’t like it one bit. 

“Okay, now what?” Felicity asked, taking a steadying breath.

“Roy will pass you the ball,” Oliver explained.  “All you have to do is toss it through the ring.”

“Oh, is  _that_  all?”  Felicity resisted the urge to laugh like a maniac.  But, in the end, she didn’t have time to do or say anything, because Oliver was moving and, being as she was attached to him at the moment, it seemed she was going with him. 

“Ready?” Digg asked, stepping forward with the ball and getting into position…a position they had _made up_ less than an hour before. 

Roy nodded the affirmative from her (Oliver’s) left and Puppy looked like he was going to _wrestle_ Digg for the ball, shifting from side to side on the balls of his feet.  Roy was rather pretty without his shirt on, just as Felicity had imagined.  Though not nearly as mature and defined as Oliver.

For the first time, Felicity remembered that there were other people on this field.  Like a  _lot_  of other people.  All of whom were looking at her, most of them with some version of a _knowing_ grin, goddamn them.  She wished the lot of them were a whole lot less invested in her (nonexistent) love life.

Though, Felicity had a feeling Slade’s smirk was because he was certain she was going to fall flat on her face.  Which she very well may if gravity and physics had anything to say about it.  Sara seemed comfortable on Slade’s shoulders, but if anyone could defy gravity it was her.

Then before Felicity could protest, Digg tossed the ball up into the air and, instantly, everyone had their game faces were on. 

Felicity had a feeling her ‘game face’ resembled abject terror.

Digg and Roy dove for the ball.  Now, that damn rubber ball was heavy but, man, could it bounce.  It sprung off of the wall and flew…oh dear god, _toward_ them. 

No, actually it was flying just past them, but Oliver shot out an arm, lunging to the side, and hit the thing, making it careen toward Roy again.

Okay,  _that_  was terrifying.  The whole Oliver lunging to the side thing.  But he didn’t seem to think it was a matter for concern.  The shoulder muscles under Felicity’s thighs were relaxed and he gave her a distracted pat as he started moving closer to the hoop, jogging _backwards_ …which she didn’t like either, by the way.

Roy and Digg scrambled for the ball below her, John stopping the bouncing with his body as they both fell to the ground. Felicity had a unique view, being so much taller than them, and it was  _so_  much scarier from her perspective.  Arms, legs, rolling around on the grass.  She couldn’t even see the ball. 

And, boy, Puppy was fierce.  He certainly looked like he had something to prove and he was not going to give his CO an inch.  But Felicity worried that he was going to get hurt from Digg’s huge arms.  Or legs.  Or any body part really.  Did she mention Digg was huge?  He had it all over Roy in strength, but Puppy was quick and agile, Felicity would give him that.

Digg managed to extract the ball from the pile of limbs and threw it to Sara but, somehow, Roy was up and intercepted it, turning quickly and throwing it to…oh god,  _her_. 

Acting on instinct, Felicity’s hands flew up to shield her face, wincing as she did, which probably _wasn’t_ in the spirit of the game.  She heard a bark of laughter from Slade and, out of the corner of her eye, Felicity saw Caitlin dissolve into mirth as well.  Felicity would seriously like to see her friend up here if she thought it was so easy. 

Felicity was about to suggest that when Oliver managed to intercept the ball and toss it up to her.  

_Miraculously_ , Felicity caught it.  Getting a good grip with both hands was easy on the ground. Eight-ish feet off the ground?  Not so much.

Felicity was wrong about this Game.  It wasn’t anything like basketball.  It was an odd mix of football and volleyball, with maybe a little Quidditch thrown in.

No sooner did she catch the ball, then Sara and Slade charged her like a giant freakish giraffe.  Felicity screamed and Oliver yelled, “Hold on,” and then she screamed  _louder_  because he grabbed her knees and ran, with her on his  _goddamn_  shoulders, head-on for the hoop. 

Felicity couldn’t look, she had the distinct feeling that she was going to collide with that stone hoop (which was absurd since it was still ten feet above her) and held the ball in front of her face as a shield.  She heard Curtis join the laughter this time and didn’t regret her participation in the chili incident.   _At all._

“Throw!” Oliver yelled, interrupting her thoughts.  Slade and Sara were still charging from the side, the stone hoop…was really really high…

Again, purely on instinct, she followed Oliver’s command.  Felicity threw the ball.  She didn’t even look where she was sending it.  She just tossed it up in the air and when it started to fall back down toward her head she punched it, like a volleyball.  It was more self-preservation than anything else.  That ball was heavy and she’d had concussions before.  They sucked.

There was no way the ball was going anywhere near that hoop.  But, at this point, Felicity would settle for not killing herself…

Oh dear lord in heaven. 

It went  _through_! 

No way! 

Huh. 

Guess playing Quidditch in High School didn’t look do silly after all!

“Yes!”  Oliver threw his hands up in victory.  “That’s my girl!” he roared.

And while his words sent Felicity’s heart racing, everyone else seemed to dismiss it as completely normal, so it must just be a sports thing and not nearly as significant as it felt.  

“Boo-Yaa!”  Roy yelled, jumping up and down, completely hammered.  At least it seemed like he was.  Maybe it wasn’t the rum at all, just another one of those sports things Felicity didn’t understand.  “Take  _that_ , Old Man,” Roy yelled toward Slade.

Then he turned and high-fived, first Oliver, then jumped up to high-five Felicity and, while being part of a team was fun, being slapped enthusiastically while she was six feet up, made her remember gravity was not on her side and she clenched her thighs tighter around Oliver…

Oh, _why_ did Felicity’s brain have to put things that way?  Wasn’t she flustered enough?

“I wouldn’t get too cocky, kid,” Slade called back, getting back in position.  “Beginners luck, was all that was.  Princess up there threw a Hail Mary.  No  _way_  she can do it again.”

And, while Felicity secretly agreed with Slade, Roy yelled, “Bring it on!” and, lord, he sounded like a college football player at a kegger.  Not that they’d had those at MIT, so Felicity was just assuming.  She’d seen movies though.  That was what real-life frat parties look like, right?

Oliver brought her back over to ‘position’ and, seriously, did they have to do this  _again_?  Not that sitting on Oliver’s warm bare shoulders, while his hands ran along Felicity’s legs was a _bad_ way to die…

They were facing Slade and Sara, both whom had their game faces on and Felicity really didn’t see how she had any chance of beating Sara in the long run.  The first time she really had gotten lucky. 

Felicity met her friend’s eyes and made a face that must have shown how she felt, because Sara gave her a thumbs up and called, “You’re doing great!”

That made Slade freeze and send an incredulous frown up at his partner.  “Hey, killer, she’s the enemy here.  Don’t you go soft on me.”

“Sorry,” Sara laughed.  Then she lifted her face to Felicity and yelled out, “You’re doing great, but we’re  _still_  gonna to kick your ass.”

It made Felicity, and everyone else, laugh.  Well, anyone with a sense of humor, which wasn’t many of them since most of the men looked like they were playing for their first born…oh, damn, poor choice of words.  Thank god, she hadn’t said  _that_  out loud.

But then The Game started again and Felicity didn’t have time to think about anything except _not dying_ in a humiliating sports related accident.  She could see it now.  ‘Yes, Mrs. Smoak, your daughter died in the line of duty to her country and the world.  How, you ask?  Oh, she was playing a two-thousand-year old ball game.’

The ball was in the air and Felicity really needed to stop getting distracted.  Oliver was running and, sometimes, Felicity really didn’t think he remembered that she was on his shoulders because he seemed to be running as quickly as he did without her up here.  She wasn’t a bodily appendage.  But when she told him that he just laughed and didn’t slow down in the slightest.

Somehow, as Roy so eloquently put it, they ‘brought it.’  It turned out, Felicity’s goal wasn’t a complete fluke.  She kept scoring (it really helped to imagine they were playing Quidditch and she was the chaser.  It was even more fun when she considered Oliver her Firebolt). 

Their team caught up, astoundingly, and Felicity became less nervous the longer they played.  It was actually kind of fun once she realized that Oliver really  _wasn’t_  going to let her fall.  And her body seemed to trust him more than Felicity trusted herself, so really she could do anything, lunge and reach and throw herself over to get the ball…and Oliver just moved with her. Seamlessly.  She was never even close to getting hurt.  It was actually kind of amazing.

So the anxiety got better.  The arousal on the other hand…

Oliver’s warm and sweaty shoulders under and between her thighs, her shorts ridding up, their skin sweat-soaked and sliding against each other’s, his muscles moving below hers…how the hell was Felicity supposed to survive this?  How could  _any_  woman?  Never mind one that was in love with him?  One, who, by the way, had suffered a five-plus-year draught?

After Tikal, Felicity had just sort of… _turned off_  the sexual part of her.  It wasn’t an issue.  She really hadn’t been interested.  Actually, there had been a part of her who… _feared_ maybe that the removal of some of those lady parts had taken away her sex drive for good.  A quick google search seemed to say otherwise, but even so, it made sense to her.  Evolutionarily, if she couldn’t have a baby why would her body want sex?

Oh, how  _wrong_  she had been.  It seemed the problem wasn’t that the surgery made her asexual, but that Felicity herself had long ago become… _Oliversexual_.  Yes, her body was only interested in one man.   _This_  man.  The one who was currently between her thighs. 

The one completely focused on getting a giant rubber ball through a stone hoop and beating a smart-ass Australian.

Felicity lost track of just how long she was seated on Oliver’s shoulders…and there was no way to even think that without it sounding dirty.  And all  _that_  did was remind her how, unfortunately, it wasn’t. 

She wouldn’t be surprised if someone told her that she had been up there for hours.  Damn, the man had stamina…

And there she went again.  Felicity wished she could stop thinking about Oliver’s  _stamina_.

The game went back and forth.  The teams meeting each other shot for shot.  Not even Felicity was going to call it quits until they won.  Because as much as this was torture, she had no idea when the next time she would have the privilege of being this close to Oliver again.  If ever.  She wasn’t going to waste this chance.

Though, Felicity had a feeling that she was the only one with a reason to keep the game going that wasn’t the overriding need to win.

Finally, Sara got the ball and Roy went for the jugular.  Catching Slade off guard, he dove for the older man’s knees, sending all three of them flying off the ground and landing in a heap in the grass and dirt. 

In the end, Roy was sprawled over Slade’s legs, pinning him to the ground.  Though that was helped by the fact that Sara was laying across both off them, laughing her ass off despite the fact that she must be covered in scrapes and bruises, not to mention grass and dust.

“Uncle!” Roy yelled.  “Cry ‘uncle’!”

“What’s that, kid?” Slade laughed, only somewhat winded.  “You say ‘uncle’?  You give in?  Why, thank you! I accept.”

“Ha! Nice try, old man.   We got you  _beat_!”  Roy persisted, trying to get up, but Sara wasn’t budging.  She had thrown herself, spread eagle, on her back, across Roy and was laughing with delight.

Shaking his head, Digg came over to offer Sara a hand and hauled her to her feet.  “I think it may be time to call it a night, man.”

“What!  Never!” Slade yelled, pushing Roy off of him with an angry shove.  “This is all  _your_  fault, big man,” he accused John, pointing a finger at him.  “If you’d been willing to tackle  _those two_ we would have won half an hour ago.”

Felicity stiffened, horrified.  Had that been an option?  She did  _not_  sign up for that being an option!  Oliver ran his hands over her knees in a soothing manner and yelled back, “As if you could have gotten near us!”

John rolled his eyes at all of them.  “As if I’d risk hurting _Felicity_.”  Then he gave Slade a look.  “You crazy?”

“And what?  I’m expendable?”  Sara demanded, her words bellied by her wide grin as she brushed herself off.

Digg scoffed.  “No.   _Unbreakable_.  Also taking you down doesn’t bring out the rage monster over there.”  He shoved a thumb over his shoulder at Oliver.

Okay.  Felicity got a little nervous at how Oliver would take  _that_  one.  Generally, he was under very good control over their emotions, but it had been a team joke all those years ago:  Everyone knew the way to get Oliver to fly off the handle was to threaten Felicity, even when their relationship had been a ‘secret.’  It was a fact Slade had always enjoyed poking at.

But that was then and this was now.  And John just insinuated…well, he was talking about them like their relationship hadn’t changed in the last five years, which was possibly the _most_ ludicrous thing Felicity could imagine.

Whatever was going on between them now (and Felicity had no  _idea_  what that was) she was pretty sure that it was pretty damn fragile.  And it was becoming increasingly important to her.  She really didn’t want her friends’ casual remarks messing anything up.  It was bad enough that she had worry about  _her_  messing it up. 

So, Felicity was very thankful that when she peaked down at Oliver, he was smirking at the other team, completely relaxed and unbothered by the comments.  Maybe even pleased, though she might be reading into this.  Did he want to erase the last five years?  God knew, Felicity did.  But she, for one, knew how impossible that was.

But then…a thought occurred to her.  Leaning down, Felicity hissed in Oliver’s ear (or as close as she could get from her position), “You planned this didn’t you?  You  _knew_  Digg would never tackle you if you were carrying me.”

Oliver shrugged, which was really weird because it kinda made Felicity bounce a little and an hour ago that would have terrified her but now she just rolled her eyes as Oliver drawled, “It _might_ have occurred to me.  It wasn’t my main reason for bringing you in, but…”

Had Felicity ever mentioned that Oliver might just be a tactical genius?   And it was sexy as frak, god help her.  And, also, what was the  _main_ reason?  That was question that was sure to keep her up all night.

Oliver hands clenched Felicity’s knees as he yelled out, “Come on, you damn Aussie.  We gonna finish this game or are you admitting defeat!”

Ah damn.  This game was  _never_  gonna end.  Felicity was tired, sweaty and, well, she didn’t know how long she could sit up here with her dignity intact.

So why was she smiling?

“ _Never_!” Slade yelled back in his usual menacing voice.  It must be terrifying when he was wielding a sword, instead of just struggling to put five and half feet of blond back on his shoulders. 

It didn’t look like he was having nearly as easy a time of it as he had a few hours ago.  Felicity could see that the muscles in Slade’s arms were actually spasming as he lifted Sara.   The man was strong, no one would ever question that, but this game had been going on for a very long time.  Maybe it was time to call it quits.  Felicity was perfectly fine in calling it a draw.  Actually, that sounded like an excellent plan.

“Hey, man, I think they may have won,” Digg told Slade, very reasonably, locking eyes with Sara, who just shrugged.  She seemed game for just about anything.

But Digg’s words just pissed Slade off even more.   Apparently, a teammate considering forfeiting was a special kind of betrayal.  Felicity was starting to worry that Oliver was going to have to knock him unconscious if they ever wanted to end this. 

“Not yet!” Slade screamed, stubbornly standing with Sara on his shoulders, letting out a grunt that had Roy and Oliver exchanging amused, and triumphant, smiles.  “I’ll have you remember I’ve been carrying Sara longer, you wanker!”

“I’m not tired,” Oliver yelled back and Felicity could tell by his tone he was smiling.  “I could go all night.”

And, lord, did he  _have_  to use phrases like that?  As if Felicity’s already overactive imagination needed any help.  Because Oliver  _could_  go all night.  It was something Felicity knew first hand…and those thoughts just had her squirming uncomfortably on top off him and praying that The Game ended before he realized what was going on. 

But, then, mother nature decided for all of them.

The promised rain of earlier finally broke the oppressive humidity and the skies opened up.  There were no warning showers, just an instant deluge that had them all soaked before they could even comprehend what was happening.

Which may have been lucky because, not only did it end a potentially endless game, it power-washed eight sweaty and, well,  _filthy_  individuals who otherwise may have gone a week or more without a shower.  Though, bye-bye straight hair.  That was the end of  _that._   For this mission anyway. 

Also, now Felicity remembered why she preferred contacts for the field.  Being able to see was useful, well, all the time and as cool as Cisco’s glasses were they didn’t come with windshield wipers.

There was moment where everyone just stood there, shocked.  Then Sara let out a loud guffaw that was barely heard over the pounding rain and everyone dispersed, running in every direction at once to save their gear (most of which was water proof anyway.  ARGUS wasn’t stupid).

Oliver lifted Felicity off his shoulders slowly and carefully, which she appreciated, and she stumbled on legs that she hadn’t realized were as sore and cramped as they were.  It just showed how distracting he was.  Though, maybe, Oliver’s body had just served a heating pads for her tired muscles.

His hand found her elbow, steadying her.  And Felicity just wanted to let go.  To fall into Oliver, tilt her head up for a kiss.  If she let herself, she could forget the last five years ever happened.

“Are you okay!?”  Oliver yelled over the roar of the rain.  The downpour was loud enough that Felicity barely made out the words.  And she had to blink herself back to reality to remind herself her fantasy wasn’t already a reality, that she was standing several feet away and not in his arms.

The world was distorted by the heavy rivulets of water running down her glasses but, somehow, she was still able to catch a really good look at Oliver’s rain drenched skin.  If there was ever a moment Felicity wanted to turn back time, this was it, because once upon a time she would have had every right to drink the rain from Oliver’s neck and it looked very,  _very_  lickable right now. 

They’d had sex in a heavy summer rain before.  Felicity had forgotten.  Or hadn’t thought about it in years, at least.  But, right then, she couldn’t think about anything else.  It had been _fantastic_.

“Felicity? You okay?” Oliver repeated, looking concerned and she had to wonder if he had any clue that she was standing there, frozen from sexual frustration.  Would he do anything different if he knew?

“Yeah.  I’m good!”  Felicity yelled back, because she really couldn’t yell, ‘I need to climb you like a tree.  Can we forget about the last five years and find somewhere to fuck in the rain?’ 

Not that she  _ever_  would have said something so crude, but…

Felicity wiped off her glasses and…oh dear god, Oliver was staring at her chest.  His eyes were fixated on where her shirt had become soaked through and, eh hem, see-through.  And the look in his eyes gave Felicity the distinct impression that he wouldn’t be opposed to any tree climbing she might suggest.  The way his chest rose and fell, his breathing harder than it was when he was running full tilt with her on his shoulders told a similar story.

Was she actually  _considering_  this?  That Felicity realized now how much she still wanted him physically was one thing, but the fact that she was now actually  _contemplating…_ but if Oliver initiated something, in that moment, she couldn’t imagine where she would find the strength to deny him—

“Oi!  You two going to stand there having eye-sex all night in a bloody flood or are you going to help!”  Slade yelled.

And, yeah, if anything was going to break the spell it was  _that_. 

Thank you, Slade.  Now, please go jump off a cliff.  Felicity knew there was a reason he was her least favorite member if the team.

Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity did get the pleasure of witnessing both Caitlin and Sara take the time to smack Slade on the back of his stubborn Aussie head.  

But the moment was over.  Oliver wouldn’t even look at her.

It was  _probably_  for the best…what was she thinking?  It was  _definitely_  for the best!  Felicity couldn’t have sex with Oliver!  Not when he didn’t know her secret.  He would find out eventually and then he would be devastated…then  _she_  would be devastated.  No, Slade did her a favor.  Damn him.

With nothing better to do, Felicity ran off to gather what was left of their gear and move it to the covered stone pavilion where the Mayan Royals once watched their terrible game.

Most of the work had already been done and the tents, thankfully, put up earlier that evening, so there wasn’t much left for Felicity to do.  Which was good, because she was pretty much useless and her eyes kept drifting to Oliver’s backside as he bent to lift the heavier equipment. 

Reminding herself that she couldn’t have him didn’t seem to stop Felicity’s rampaging libido.  Was there such thing as a wet shorts contest?  There should be.  The way the material clung to that ass…

Felicity would have forgotten to come in from the rain (quite literally) if Sara hadn’t dragged her inside their tent.  Caitlin probably would have left her out there on the off chance that something might still happen.  (Felicity still didn’t understand how Caitlin, of all people, thought that was a good idea).

But then again, Caitlin’s advice was to tell Oliver the truth and the longer they spent together, the more Felicity thought that was unavoidable.  Inevitable even.

Her thoughts an increasingly jumbled mess, Felicity found herself standing in the middle of Sara and Caitlin as the three struggled to get out of their soaking wet clothes and muttered about how, though they all wore standard issue quick dry-clothing, they hoped there would be at least some sun tomorrow to dry them. 

Imagine if it rained for the rest of this stupid mission?  It would be just Felicity’s luck that after complaining about the heat, she was stuck wet and miserable for days on end.

“So…” Sara sent Felicity a shrewd little smile as she wriggled out of her shorts.  “Things seem to be looking up with Ollie, hmm?”

Sara peeled off her wet bra and, while her nudity didn’t bother Felicity in the slightest, she was in such a state that that any bare skin reminded her of Oliver’s bare skin and all Felicity could think was that he was in the tent next to theirs pulling off  _his_  wet clothes.

Was he completely naked by now?  Would he shake off the rain like a wet animal?  Oliver sometimes did that.  It was so fraking sexy.  Was he walking around, his ass beautiful and bare? 

Felicity bet he was.  The men had even less modesty than Sara.  He might even sleep naked on a night like this.  What was she saying?  He almost _always_ slept naked.

Letting out a low whimper, Felicity could only hope the pounding rain drowned out the sound. She closed her eyes, pulling off her glasses and placing them aside.  All she could see was water droplets running down Oliver’s tanned chest anyway.  Down, down…

“Sara, let her process,” Caitlin murmured and Felicity didn’t realize that she hadn’t answered Sara’s question until that moment.  It was a good thing that Caitlin seemed to have answered for her because Felicity couldn’t for the life of her remember what that question was. 

But what was Felicity supposed to process exactly?  The fact that she was practically shaking with lust for her  _ex_ -boyfriend?  Who may or may not be interested in trying something again when the rain cleared and the sun came back up?  The one who had every right to never speak to her again once he knew the whole truth?  Hell, it was a miracle he was talking to her now!

But Oliver refusing to talk to her after learning the truth was one of the better scenarios, because the truth may also make him sink even further into self-loathing.  Which  _may_  lead to him going on another of ARGUS’ suicide missions in an attempt to further self-flagellate.  Was there something out there  _worse_  than Russia?

Felicity dried off as quickly as she could, pulled on her pajamas (because  _she_  sure as hell wasn’t sleeping naked) and climbed into her thin sleeping bag, which (unfortunately) was between her friends.

As soon as Sara was settled next to her, she whispered, “So you done processing, yet?  Maybe we can help?”

“Hmmm?” was Felicity’s intelligent response because as soon as she got in between the fabric, she imagined Oliver’s naked body between the sheets.   What if he was aroused?  If he was, he certainly couldn’t walk around naked…Felicity let out an involuntary whimper.

“Yeah, she’s  _processing_  all right!”  Sara laughed.

“Maybe what I should have said was, ‘leave her alone,’” Caitlin hissed, in full Mama Bear mode, likely due to guilt she felt from sending Oliver to fetch her for dinner.  Or didn’t send.  Or…either way Felicity was starting to think maybe she should thank her.

“She’s a big girl,” Sara argued.  “With  _big girl_  feeeeelings. In big girl places.” 

Felicity groaned and hid her head in the tiny pillow.

“Sara!” Caitlin shifted her weight onto her elbows to smack Sara with her pillow, which, since they were so close, ended up hitting Felicity In the back of the head.

Oh god!  They were going to bicker over her all night if she let them.

Felicity unburied her head from the pillow and said (quite reasonably if she did say so herself) “I’m just glad Oliver and I are on speaking terms again.”  Then she very deliberately leaned over to turn out the last battery-operated lantern and said, “Good night.”

Sara grumbled, but there was no more arguing.  Or harassment for that matter.  But then Felicity questioned the intelligence of that move, since the pounding rain was doing nothing to block out her  _thoughts_.

And when she closed her eyes, all she saw was Oliver.  Wet Oliver.  Smiling Oliver.  Oliver handing her chili.  Oliver calling her ‘Sunshine.’

Dear lord, she was falling in love with a man she had never fallen _out of_ love with.  And it really wasn’t fair.  Lustful thoughts alternated with guilt.  And all the terrible ways this could all end.

Then Sara started to snore.

It was going to be a  _long_  night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167314998223/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-7))
> 
> Check out supplemental information on TSTS on my Tumblr as well as updates on my posting: http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> And final shout outs to:  **Fairytalehearts** and **ireland1733** for all they do!
> 
> Don’t forget to let me know what you think!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	9. Chapter 8: Palenque Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to _To Sacrifice the Sun!_ If you are new to the story, thanks for giving it a chance! Happy reading!
> 
> To remind everyone what was going on I have “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened on my Tumblr   **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/156601956585/previously-on).**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found **[here.](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)**

_September 17, 2016_  
_07:01_  
_Palenque Ruins, Mexico_

Felicity woke abruptly, at dawn, the bright morning light streaming in through the flaps of their tent, her dream still playing in technicolor in her mind.  Strange disjointed images of the Great King Pical dancing around his fancy tomb.  Then King Cadmeal, the first king of Palenque, and his wife and the Temple of the Sun…

Pushing herself upright, Felicity pressed her palms to her tired eyes and tried to catch the last remnants of the dream before they flitted away completely.  It felt…important.  Like it was more than a regular dream.

Whether she had just been processing in her sleep or if she wanted to believe in the strange intuition she seemed to experience whenever she spent too much time amongst the Mayan ruins, Felicity just couldn’t get the feeling, the  _urgency_  out of her head.  And there was no way she was going to be able to fall back asleep.  She wasn’t going to be able to relax at all until she had another look below the Temple of the Sun.

The pounding rain had stopped and the wisps of light permeating the tent indicated that the sun was at least starting to come out.  Cait and Sara snored away beside her, sleeping more peacefully than Felicity could remember either of them doing on past missions.  No doubt it was due to the rum.  And, maybe a little bit, the excitement of the ballgame. 

Whatever the reason, heaven help them all if HIVE showed up now.  Good thing the world couldn’t see their last best chance now. 

Hopefully, one of the guys would be up and alert.

But unfortunately…not so much. 

When Felicity emerged from her tent, everything was quiet and still, only the distant sounds of birds and tree frogs floating in from the rainforest broke the silence.  It was still early, but… Felicity’s skin itched to get back down into that chamber and going by herself probably wasn’t the brightest plan.  Also, she was going to need more muscle than she possessed to do what she needed to do.

First things first.  Coffee.  Before she ruined someone else's sleep, Felicity should probably make sure she was awake and coherent herself.  So, Curtis’ french press her she came. 

But, of course, while Felicity was able to find the coffee maker rather easily, it was too damn complicated to figure out  _before_  the first cup.  Didn’t Curtis understand that coffee makers needed to be idiot proof?   Clearly, an epic fail.  So much worse than the exploding communicator incident.  She may even have had the unkind thought that she hoped his stomach still hurt from the damn chili.  To get her excited about the idea of  _real_ coffee, then to make it too difficult to accomplish…not cool.

And, how come Felicity could figure out  _any_  machine  _ever_ ,  _except_  the ones that created basic human sustenance?  And, trust her, coffee at dawn…the very definition of ‘basic human sustenance.’

“Urgh!” Felicity grunted in frustration, pressing the button that really should work.  It _looked_ simple enough.  Stupid, Curtis!  He did this on purpose just to mess with her!   “Stupid defective idiotic—”

“Did you remember to add the coffee?”

Felicity jumped embarrassingly high, stumbling back on her uncaffeinated (on top of generally uncoordinated) feet, and backing right into…

Oliver. 

Of course, it would be  _Oliver._  Of all people.  And,  _damn_ , how does the man move so fraken quietly?   _So_  unfair.  

And now Oliver was way too close.  Her whole back felt alive and tingly and she did not have the current faculties to deal with that.  She quickly swung around and snapped (which wasn’t very nice, but again, still no coffee and Felicity was blaming  _everything_  on that), “Don’t _do_ that!  And, of course, I remembered the coff…”

Oh wait…

“You forgot to add the coffee, didn’t you?”  Oliver asked quietly, looking down at Felicity with an amused and indulgent smile.  It might have even been affectionate. 

Also unfair was how incredibly attractive Oliver was this early in the morning, along with being awake  _and_  with it.  Maybe he slept better than her, which would,  _again_ , be unfair since he was the reason Felicity hadn’t.   _Clearly_ , the universe had become biased against her.

Felicity shot Oliver a death glare and refused to acknowledge that, yes, she was trying to make coffee without actually _adding_ coffee and, instead, tried to gather up her mop of a head of hair into a ponytail so she could at least look  _somewhat_  presentable.  Her rained out, humidity attacked, slept on, curly mop of a head of hair.  It was impossible.  Mostly because one hand still held the coffee maker and creating ponytails was a no-go with only one hand.

Oh _why_  did Felicity have to be stuck with Mr. Tall-Gorgeous-and-Dangerous (and by dangerous she meant to her sanity) without her product and straightener?  Was Oliver enjoying seeing his ex looking less than spectacular?  People did that, she knew.  And given the way she’d tromped all over his heart she probably even deserved it. 

But Felicity still decided Oliver was a smug bastard when he held out his hand for Curtis’ stupid coffee-needing coffee maker (and to be fair there was always freshly ground coffee _already_ in the machines in the Cave).

At least now she had two free hands.  Setting about finger-combing her rat’s nest, Felicity pulled it into what, she was sure, was a horribly wild ponytail as her eyes followed Oliver’s competent hands as they made quick work of adding the coffee…and the water ( _damn it)_ to the machine _._   The coffee was brewing before she had her hair secure.

And, seriously, why did Oliver, of all people, have to stumble upon her early morning buffoonery?  She opened her mouth to ask why he was the only one awake, but he held up his hand. 

“Eh,” Oliver warned, making Felicity frown.  “No conversation until after coffee.”

Okay, umm…that _had_ been a rule of theirs.  And a good one, but…wow, that felt intimate.  Like reminding Felicity of something she liked in bed.  Or about her morning breath. 

But before Felicity could think of a witty comeback, or any comment at all, Oliver was pressing a steaming mug into her hand, all prepared with sugar and powdered creamer, just the way she liked (or as good as it could get in the field).

Had Felicity mentioned Oliver was her favorite?  The coffee smelled amazing and even if she hadn’t been in love with him for the better part of a decade, at the moment, he would still be her favorite.

The plastic mug was empty in three long gulps.

“Better?”  Oliver asked, still smiling indulgently as he filled her cup again.

Why was he so wonderful?  It just wasn’t okay.  And looking at Felicity like he actually _enjoyed_ being around her?  What was  _that_  about?  How could anyone enjoy her in this state?  Never mind someone whose heart she had so thoroughly broken?  Also, it hurt to look at something that good looking this early in the morning.  Clearly, the world was fraking with her.

But that wasn’t Oliver’s fault  _and_  he had made her coffee so she murmured, “Much.  Thank you.”   Felicity smiled back at him tentatively and he met her eyes and his smile widened and…wow, this was getting  _really_  dangerous.

But then, Oliver stood up and Felicity bite her lip to keep from demanding to know where he was going.  Or maybe pleading with him to stay.  Just to drink coffee with her.  And keep her company.  How pathetic was that?  Also, something she did not deserve.  He had already been  _far_  kinder than she deserved.

Especially since Oliver was barely gone two full minutes before he came back carrying two camp bowls.  He handed Felicity one with two hard boiled eggs and a half of a papaya.  And while it looked delicious and again he was being very kind, the food thing…  
  
“I think you took Curtis and Caitlin a little too seriously,” Felicity muttered, trying not to sound irritated.  It wasn’t  _Oliver’s_  fault.  “I don’t need to be fed.”  Like a dog.  It was humiliating.

“Felicity,” Oliver said firmly, making her meet his eyes, “I made three dozen boiled eggs.  For the team.  You’re part of the team.”

Now Felicity was even more embarrassed, especially when she noticed that Oliver had four eggs on his plate.  She hoped she could pass off her almost continual blush as sunburn.  Here she was assuming he was taking care of her, that she was special in some way, but he was just treating her like any other member of the team. 

It was a relief.  Really.  Not a crushing disappointment at all.

Swallowing another gulp of coffee, she picked up an egg and hit it against the side of the bowl, slowly picking off the peal.  She peaked up at Oliver from under her lashes and saw him pull out an impressive knife from his belt.  Intrigued now, Felicity watched as he efficiently stabbed the top and bottom of the egg, before cleanly decapitating the top.  The shell was gone in seconds.

“What?” Oliver asked, when he noticed her staring, as he bit the egg cleanly in half.

Felicity raised her eyebrows.  “Are you pealing that egg or assassinating it?”  Because not only was it disturbingly violent, it was also impressively skilled.  And she wasn’t going to tell Oliver it was hard  _not_  to stare at him when he had to be so fraking gorgeous in the early morning mist.

Oliver pressed his lips together, amused.  Hopefully, from the egg comment.  Not from reading her mind.  Which would be ridiculous.  “The Russians love their eggs.”

Ugh.  Russia.  “That’s not how Russian’s eat their eggs,” Felicity argued, though she had no idea why, other than it was the ass crack of dawn and her already unusual life had taken a bizarre turn in the last forty-eight hours.  Arguing with Oliver about how to eat eggs seemed like as safe a conversation as any.

“Oh, it’s not?”  Oliver lifted an eyebrow at her, again,  _amused_.  Apparently wild-haired barely caffeinated Felicity was  _very_  amusing.  “Pray tell, what  _is_  the Russian way?”

Of course, Oliver knew more about Russia than she did, but eating a boiled egg the Russian way was the kind of stupid thing computer nerds prided themselves on.

Picking up her second egg, Felicity cracked one end and peeled off a tiny bit of the shell, then turned it around and did the same, but making a slightly bigger hole, on the other side.  She held it up for Oliver to inspect and he nodded indulgently. 

Grinning, Felicity announced, “ _This_  is the Russian way.”  She held the small hole to her mouth and blew.

The egg went flying.  Oliver caught it because,  _damn,_  those reflexes.  But then, he let out a bark of laughter that made Felicity grin triumphantly.  She may not be able to make coffee at dawn, or  _actually_  boil an egg, but she could deshell it in the most entertaining way possible.

“That is  _not_  the Russian way,” Oliver argued, but he was chuckling, shaking his head as he examined her projectile.

“According to the crazy Russian hacker who blasted it over YouTube it is.  It’s got like three million views,” Felicity told Oliver, using a spork to scoop out some papaya, still feeling pretty satisfied.  The trick didn’t always work that well.  Though she may have been a little disappointed that it wasn’t the way all Russians did it.  Cisco was going to be devastated.

Oliver just shook his head, taking a bite of her egg (guess he wasn’t trying to feed her after all).  “Well, no one in the Bratva sent their eggs flying across the room.”

“Well, that’s no fun.”  It wasn’t, but Felicity must be feeling brave that morning to joke about the Bratva.

“No, it wasn’t.”  Oliver didn’t elaborate.  His eyes became more serious, the way they always did when he spoke about Russia.

Did he want to avoid the topic?  Or…maybe Oliver  _wanted_  to talk about it?  Felicity didn’t want him to think she was  _avoiding_  the topic and he _did_ bring it up in the first place so…

“Did they have good food in Russia?”  Which was as bland a question as anyone could ever come up with.   Especially since Roy had answered the same one last night, but it seemed to be a safe way to start a conversation.

“It was different,” was all Oliver said so maybe he  _didn’t_  want to talk about it.  He wasn’t making eye contact, just polishing off her egg.   But then he added, “They had great coffee though.  Strong.”  He refilled both their cups and started a new pot.  “They’re also insanely fond of cabbage.  And, while I make a mean borsht, I would be happy if I never saw cabbage again for the rest of my life.”

Felicity couldn’t suppress her shudder.  “Sounds delicious.”  But she was unreasonably happy he was sharing.

“It wasn’t too bad,” Oliver assured.   Then, before she knew it, he had assassinated another egg with his scary knife and had the perfectly peeled morsel next to her half eaten one in Felicity’s bowl.  “What about you?  Is the food terrible in the Cave?”

It wasn’t until she picked up that egg and took a bite that Felicity acknowledged to herself that she was sitting down to a pleasant breakfast, engaging in idle chit chat with the estranged love of her life.  And it wasn’t terrible.  It was certainly surreal though.  And the eating of each other’s eggs was…something else altogether.

“The cafeteria is pretty good, actually.”  Though the more they discussed this, the more it felt like the least important thing in the world.  Yesterday, Felicity had prayed for the gift of small talk.  Now, it felt like she was wasting time.  “I know that Caitlin and Curtis told you I lived off coffee…”

Oliver lifted his eyebrows at her.

“But, in reality, I lived off coffee  _and_  ice cream.”  Because humor was never a waste of time.

And neither was seeing Oliver chuckle in the early morning light.  It really was unfair how attractive he was.  And…was that the _fifteenth_ time she had thought that this morning?  Felicity ran a hand over her frizzy ponytail again, self-conscious.  Clearing her throat, she murmured, “You’re up early.”

Oliver swallowed, his eyes dragging over her.  Did he like what he saw?  It was hard to believe he could.   “I could say the same for you.”  Did Felicity look sleep-deprived?  Did she have bags under her eyes?  “Trouble sleeping?”

Did it  _look_  like she’d had trouble sleeping?  Or was the implication Oliver had?  Why did she always think in questions when he was around?

“Not really,” Felicity answered.  Though, that was a lie since it took a while to settle down and stop imagining him naked…okay, not where she wanted her thoughts to go right then.  “I had a dream,” she blurted out, because that was a much more benign topic. 

Also, relevant.  Since it wasn’t a sex dream.  Would Oliver think it was a sex dream?  No, that was a stupid thought.  Why would he think that?  Why would  _she_  think that?  There was no reason for Felicity to bring up a sex dream?  Even she didn't have  _that_  terrible a filter.  Usually.  

Actually, Oliver was giving her a concerned face, so she really  _hoped_  he didn’t think it was a sex dream… _ohhhhh_ , he thought it was a nightmare.  Frak, Felicity’s brain wasn’t working  _at all_  this morning.  The coffee was awfully sluggish in kicking in.

Felicity quickly finished her second (third?) cup of coffee and reassured, “It wasn’t a bad dream, it was…”  How to explain this without sounding nuts?  “It just gave me an idea where to look in the Temple of the Sun.”

Did that sound like Felicity thought she was having crazy psychic dreams?  She waited for Oliver to question her.  Or tease her.  Or make a comment about how insane that was.  But instead, interest lit up his eyes and he leaned forward and asked, “What did you come up with?”

This was maybe her favorite thing about Oliver.  It was something that she had forgotten about until right then.  He always took her seriously, no matter how foolish Felicity appeared or how silly her babble.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t understand a word she said.  Oliver always listened.  He always treated her like what she said mattered, even assumed that it must be, as he said, ‘her brilliant mind’ at work.  It made her feel like she knew what she was doing. 

Even if it  _was_  following a lead that came from a crazy psychic dream.

“Do you remember King Pical?” Felicity asked, trying to ignore the surge of sentiment in her chest.  It was way too early in the morning for her to get emotional.

Oliver nodded.  “Yeah, the guy who built this place.”  Felicity opened her mouth to clarify but he interrupted her, “I  _know_ , not the guy who founded it, the one who built most of what we see here.  Didn’t Pical live like 70 years?  Turned this place into a Mayan superpower?”

The corners of Felicity’s lips tipped up.  Smart was sexy.  Just when she thought Oliver couldn’t get more attractive.  “You did listen.”

“Was there ever a doubt?”  Oliver’s voice was husky and he held her gaze as he lifted his coffee to his lips…black, secretly saturated with sugar.   Felicity remembered things too.

Clearing her throat again, Felicity tried not to fidget in her seat.  “Remember how they found Pical’s tomb at the base of the Temple of Inscriptions?”  Oliver nodded again and she pressed on, excitement starting to rise as she said what she remembered out loud.  The pieces fell together and the curiosity blazing in Oliver’s eyes spurred her on.  “Well, they buried him with all sorts of treasures _and_ …in the Temple of the Sun there were these tombs.  Completely unadorned and, well, I’m not sure why but we didn’t open them.  I didn’t think they were really important but now…”

She still wasn’t  _sure_  they were important.  At the time, Felicity had been a little distracted by Caitlin’s story.  But, still, it was odd she hadn’t thought to go back and open them until now, wasn’t it?  She’d spent all yesterday afternoon combing the rest of the ruins for clues, but never thought the tombs should be opened.  And the more she thought about it, the part of Pical’s tomb that was so spectacular was on the  _inside_.

“So we open them,” Oliver replied. 

So simple.  Oliver didn’t question why the dream came to her or how she was interpreting it.  He didn’t ask her for the details…which were confusing and fading quickly.  All that was left really was the surety that Felicity needed to open those tombs, regardless of the fact that the idea made her cringe.  Petrified skeletons…eeeephh.

“That was my thought,” Felicity agreed, but then before she could say any more, Oliver was popping the last egg in his mouth (whole, the Nethanderal), taking her plate and his and standing.  She frowned up at him.  “What… _now_?”

“You want to get going, right?”

Well, _yeah_ , but…that was before they started to have their nice little chat and…oh, wow, Oliver meant that the two of them should go down into the tiny little box  _together_. 

Alone together. 

As in  _now_  alone together.

And, really, it had never seemed tinier than it did when there was the possibility that she might be down there with Oliver.  Alone.  Together.  And considering they hadn’t really been talking twenty-four hours ago, wasn’t that…weird?

“What about the others?” Felicity asked, and she was afraid she sounded a little bit panicked because Oliver hesitated, looking disappointed.  Oh…oh…she didn’t want to disappoint him.  No.  Stop.  How did she stop disappointing him?

“Is there someone else you need?”  Oliver asked, his face closing off just a bit.  Most people would have thought nothing of it but Felicity recognized it for what it was.  He was guarding himself against being hurt.

Oliver  _wanted_  to be alone with her.  Wow.  That was crazy.  He was a masochist.  Or he trusted her far more than Felicity deserved.

“ _Nooo_ ,” Felicity assured  _way_  too vehemently, because the most important thing was not betraying his trust.  And not hurting his feelings.  Or disappointing him.  “Not specifically.” 

Except as a chaperone.  Maybe a chaperone would be good.  Because maybe that would break the tension and keep Felicity from babbling incessantly and accidentally dropping truth bombs.  Because even if the truth had to come out eventually, truth bombs should be placed.  Carefully.   With thought.  So they didn’t explode and destroy everything in their vicinity.

But then again, Felicity imagined being down under the temple with Oliver  _and_  Cait…or Sara…or Curtis… or, dear god,  _Slade_. 

Um…no chaperone necessary.  Felicity would have to control herself without them.  Her and Oliver’s odd little reconnecting thing they had going on…so not ready for any of their friends’ interference.

“If you would rather someone else—”

“No.  Nope.”  Felicity didn’t want Oliver to see this as a rejection in  _any way_.  It wasn’t.  Why on earth would she reject  _him_?  Except, he thought she had.  She hadn’t though.  Never.  “No.  _You_ are good.”  Sounding awkward and desperate wasn’t ideal either.  “Some of those stone slabs may be too heavy though…”

Felicity trailed off at Oliver’s raised his eyebrows, the look on his face insinuating that her concerns were absurd…or, maybe, he took it as a challenge.  Really, she was making an excellent point here, one that had nothing to do with her very conflicted emotions about being alone with him.  Oliver might have the arms of a Greek god, but he was only human and those slabs were  _damn_  heavy.  It was one of the reasons those tombs hadn’t gotten opened the first time she was down there.

“For any  _one_  person to lift,” Felicity clarified, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, because though she had no desire to insult him, she refused to pander to his masculinity either.  If there was one thing Oliver was secure in, it was that.  “And I don’t think I can help at all.”

The corner of Oliver’s lip tipped up and Felicity breathed a sigh of relief, because the closed-off look disappeared.  This was the Oliver that joked with her about how to peal an egg.  The relaxed  _normal_  Oliver.

“I think I can manage,” Oliver drawled and, yup, totally confident in his…muscle-iness.  Over-confident probably.  Those slabs were massive.  “But if I can’t, we’ll wake up Digg.  Deal?

Felicity nodded.  Probably too enthusiastically.  Because Digg was good.  Digg was _safe_.  He knew how to handle an awkward situation.  He wouldn’t tease or push.  There might be a knowing glance or two…but it would be subtle and she could deal with that. Maybe they should go wake up Digg now. 

But that clearly wasn’t what Oliver wanted and Felicity just wanted to give him everything he wanted…dear lord, they weren’t even down in the hole yet and already this was getting really dangerous.

“Go grab your gear,” Oliver told her with a confident smile and Felicity took a deep breath.  Into the breach, as they say.

It only took Felicity a minute to grab her day bag and when she returned, she found Oliver with Cisco’s duffel bag over his shoulder and his bow in his hand.

“Expecting trouble?” Felicity asked, eyebrows up, already feeling her anxiety rise.  Oliver had crazy good instincts when it came to that sort of thing.

But Oliver’s only reply was, “Grappling hook.” 

Of course.  They really should have thought of that yesterday.  Felicity wondered if Oliver had gotten an earful about them getting suck in the underground (that was actually above ground) chamber or if he was just smarter than three of the Cave’s best minds combined.

When they reached the Temple, Oliver was confident and efficient, completely professional.  They didn’t speak.  Just did what they needed to do, working together seamlessly as they always used to.  The floor slab was still off (thank goodness, because no matter what he said, there was no way Oliver was lifting  _that_  by himself), so he just shot his grappling hook arrow around a column, grabbed the rope, and jumped into the chamber.

Once inside, Oliver held his hands up for Felicity and she probably should have hesitated, said something, tossed down a glow ball… _anything_.  But she didn’t.  It was all so fluid, so natural.  She never even thought about it.

Felicity jumped.

And, suddenly, she was in Oliver’s arms.

She knew she shouldn’t stay.  Oliver was just helping her into the chamber after all.  Making sure she didn’t get hurt.   That was it. 

Of course, Felicity didn’t want to pull away too quickly either.  That might give him the wrong message…ah hell, she didn’t want to pull away at all.

Before she knew it, she had already stood there for far too long.  Oliver’s hands flexed on her waist and Felicity’s were resting on his shoulders and she could feel the muscles tense underneath the thin layers of shirt and skin.  There wasn’t an inch between them.  All she had to do was sway forward and…it was dark and they were alone.  No one would know.

If Oliver tilted his head just so, he could kiss her.  What would she do if he did?  Would Felicity forget…no,  _ignore_  everything and kiss him back on the off chance…on the slimmest of possibilities that they could get it all back?  That she hadn’t destroyed  _everything_  irreparably?

But it really was a long shot.  An impossibly long no human should even be able to make it shot. She knew that.  And if Felicity let herself forget…would she survive the aftermath when Oliver finally did learn everything?  And was it fair of her to let something happen before he knew the whole truth?

Felicity stepped back, out of Oliver’s arms and immediately the air felt cooler.  Looking away, she reached into her pocket and she pulled out one of Curtis’ glow balls, showering the room with light. 

For a brief moment, Felicity thought she saw a flicker of something in Oliver’s eyes, but before she could analyze it, it was gone and his professional mask was back in place.  He turned and looked around the small chamber, his hands on his hips.  “These them?”  He gestured his chin to the four rectangular stone boxes.

“Yeah.”  Though…duh, there wasn’t anything  _else_  in this fraken hole. 

Though, they weren’t as identical as Felicity had first thought.  The middle two tombs were slightly taller and wider.  They were still completely unadorned.  No hieroglyphics or carvings to identify them.  Yet, in her dream Pical’s tomb had very few outside markings…but maybe her mind had made that up.

It was so odd.  Felicity could remember everything she had seen or read about the Lost City, as if she had taken a photograph in her mind, but she could barely remember Pical’s tomb, perhaps the most famous, most written about thing in Palenque.  Wasn’t that odd?  It felt odd.

Felicity sighed.  It was probably nothing.  This place messed with her head, gave her delusions of grandeur…or delusions of _psychic abilities._

Of course…Felicity’s premonition of doom at Tikal had come true, hadn’t it?

Felicity shook herself.  Now, she was  _really_  being ridiculous.  “I don’t know why I thought this is going to be anything,” she muttered, running a finger along a dusty tomb.  “It’s not like this is a new discovery.  There’s no way these haven’t been opened before.  Archaeologists have been all over Palenque.  If these tombs have anything…or any _one_  important in them, it would be written about.”

She was starting to feel pretty stupid for this little dawn adventure.  Of course, it would have to be Oliver whose time she wasted and who got a front row seat to Felicity’s incompetence. 

At the moment, though, Oliver was still taking this all very seriously, barely paying attention to Felicity’s litany of self-doubt.  He was at the first tomb, measuring the weight and dimensions of the stone top with his arms, seemingly to figure out the best way to lift it.  It really did look too heavy for any one man.  They didn’t even have a crowbar.  If he hurt himself trying to prove something down here…

“Well, if it’s been opened before, then at least we don’t have to worry about getting some ancient and deadly Mayan measles,” Oliver mused, his focus clearly split.  “That’s a thing, right?”

Felicity couldn’t help but chuckle.  Guess he was paying attention more than she thought he was.  But wasn’t that always the case?  Oliver was so much smarter than anyone gave him credit for.  “In Egypt. Yes.”  So kinda sorta, but the reference made sense.

Crouching next to one of the outside tombs, Oliver looked intently at the seam of the lid, narrowing his eyes.  “Besides, maybe those guys…the archaeologists or whoever, didn’t know what they were looking for.”  Then he pressed his palms against the slab and pushed, his jaw clenching as the stone started groan.

“Well, I’m not sure  _I_  know what we’re looking for either,” Felicity murmured, but she was a little distracted, taking advantage of Oliver’s preoccupation to watch the muscles of his back ripple under his t-shirt.  He never had been able to find ones that fit properly.  Or maybe they just fit too well.

“Well, they aren’t as smart as you,” Oliver gritted out as he pushed and Felicity had to laugh, even though, amazingly enough, she didn’t think he was joking.  Or even flirting.   The confidence he had in her…she had never thought she deserved it, but she had forgotten how much she had counted on it.

“I don’t know about that,” Felicity protested.  Some of those Archaeologists were geniuses in their own right.  Besides, it felt unduly arrogant to agree.

“Well, it’s worth a shot.”  Oliver let go of the slab and leaned against the side of the tomb, blowing out a breath.  It was only halfway off, but there wasn’t much space between the tombs, so he would have to angle it up and off.

“That’s true enough…do you want some help?” Though, if Oliver was having this much trouble, all Felicity was going to get was squished.  “I could…” Get Digg? 

Oliver shook his head, his eyes on the slab.  He covered his palms in the dust and rubbed them together.  “I got it.”  Bracing himself, he lifted. 

Felicity jumped forward instinctively, ready to lend her meager strength, but Oliver somehow managed to lever the slab off and ease it to the ground, even asking, “So what do the archaeologists say about these tombs?” as soon as he was done.

How was Oliver able to lift that  _and_  talk at the same time?  Felicity could barely  _watch_  him lift and talk at the same time.  Of course, it didn’t help that she seemed to be in the middle of a sexual reawakening of which he was the focus.  God, he was beautiful.

What were they saying again?  Oh, yeah, archeologists…in this chamber before…right… 

“Ummm…nothing,” Felicity answered (so very intelligently).  “I mean, I haven’t found anything important.  I didn’t do an in-depth search  _specifically_ for what was in these tombs, but it never came up in my research.”   Which was weird, now that she thought about it, because she thought that she had read everything there was to read on the Temple of The Sun.

When he was done with that first slab, Oliver stood, stretching his back and arms.   No one should be allowed to look that good.  Also, was he  _trying_  to seduce her?  It didn’t seem like he was, but Felicity’s body was starting to hum and it was ridiculously distracting.   It wasn't too late to call in Digg.  Just a comm away.

“Isn’t that weird?” Oliver asked, clearly much more focused on the task, and this conversation, than Felicity was. “That there’s nothing written about the tombs?”

“Only if there is something significant here.”  Felicity sighed, because that was the only explanation. 

If Felicity couldn’t find (or remember) what the text books said about these tombs, it must be because there wasn’t anything interesting.  Which definitely meant there was nothing here about Kin Cuudad.  Their only hope, as Oliver had said, was that there was something that was easily overlooked, that she might recognize that the others hadn’t.

But she was beginning to worry that the only thing that they would accomplish down here was an opportunity for Oliver to show off his strength and for Felicity to mourn the fact that all _that_ used to be hers. 

Oh…and for Felicity to work herself up into a tizzy of sexual tension, while she buckled under the weight of the secrets she kept between them.

No.  This was not the time to obsess over that.  Bracing herself for…creepiness, Felicity peered into the tomb and…just as she suspected, a millennia old skeleton.  Horrifically creepy and gross.  Yick.

“So, is it…carrying a key to the Lost City?” Oliver asked, bringing in just enough humor to break the tension and make Felicity smile.   He was slightly short of breath, evidence of just how heavy that thing was. 

“Alas, no.  Just bones and…deadness.”  So so gross.  An actual key would be far too much to hope for anyway.  Advanced as the Mayans were, they probably didn’t even  _have_  keys. 

Oliver didn’t seem creeped out at all by the shriveled body.  No, he was too brave and manly for that.  God, he even  _smelled_  brave and manly.  So, so not cool.  “Well, three more tombs, three more chances for lost keys,” he joked.

“One can only hope,” Felicity muttered, trying desperately not to over focus on the smell of Oliver’s sweat.  She wrinkled her nose (not at his smell, because that was quite nice really) as she forced herself to look more closely at the corpse, which was far (so _very_  far) less pleasant. 

Oliver peered into the box from his spot next to her.  “You’d think that the skeletons would at least be worth carbon-dating.”

“You’d think.  They were important enough to be entombed in a Temple with jade eyes…” Felicity shuddered.  The jade was carved to show open eyes and placed in the skull.  It was…unsettling.  She’d seen photographs of it, but never in person.  “That should warrant a paragraph in a history book, at least.”

Oliver nodded.  “I’m going to open the far right one next, if that’s okay.  I think it will be easier to maneuver the outside ones first.”

“Of course,” Felicity murmured, not looking at him, the… _body_ , finally, grabbing her full attention. 

This was once a person.  A person with dreams and loves and a life.  Family.  Friends.  He, or she, walked these once great city streets and was important enough to be given a special tomb in the Temple of the Sun.  But not important enough to mark said tomb.  And now, no one would ever know their story. 

Unless Felicity could find some clue. What was she even looking for?  All she saw was bones and shriveled…a chill raced up her spine.  Best not focus on that. 

But there wasn’t much else  _to_  focus on.   No mask.  No (surviving) jewelry.  No carvings to translate.   Amazingly, there were some remnants of what looked like a red shroud wrapped around its torso, but most of the clothing had disintegrated.   Maybe Caitlin could take some samples to date, but how would that help them?  There was nothing in here for Felicity to examine or translate.  A dead end.

“You sure I can’t help balance or something,” Felicity called out, dragging her eyes away, eager for something to do that wasn’t examining a dead body.

There was a grunt and a loud screech as limestone scrapped against limestone.  “Got it.” 

Oliver’s new favorite phrase.

He just  _had_  to be trying to show off.  There was no other explanation.  Why else would Oliver be torturing himself when he and Digg could easily just lift these off?  And Felicity was starting to get the idea that it would take a serious injury for him to willingly call John.  What was he trying to prove? 

But while Felicity felt like she should say something (and she certainly would have in the past), she stayed silent, unwilling to say anything that may be interpreted as an insult.  Or, if she were honest, break this fragile little bubble they had down here.  Even telling him that he had nothing to prove seemed risky.  Too risky.

Oliver finished opening the second tomb and Felicity moved to inspect that one for any clues as he moved in front of the third, stubbornly determined to do this all on his own.  He did, thankfully, pause to catch his breath.  “You know, maybe your dream was you remembering something you read a long time ago.”

Felicity looked up from corpse number two, who looked, unfortunately, exactly the same as corpse number one.  “Maybe.”  It was an excellent thought.  Except, she remembered everything else she’d read on the subject quite vividly.

“But you don’t think so?” Oliver asked and Felicity didn’t know how he was so damn perceptive, especially since he wasn’t even looking at her face. 

Oliver’s eyes were glued to the third tomb, examining the slab and and the narrow space between the tall stone boxes.  Since it was in the center, there wasn’t the same amount of room to slide the slab off horizontally, so unless he found a better way, he was forced to pull and maneuver in vertically.

“It just doesn’t feel like… _that_ ,” Felicity told him and talk about vague.  “I mean, it’s not like the dream was super specific.  It just left me with images and…the  _feeling_  that I needed to look in these tombs.”  Yup and she had circled right back to crazy-town.  Guess there was no avoiding it.

Oliver seemed to having a really hard time getting a grip on this slab, but he still argued, “I’m sure your brilliant mind was just making connections—”

“Not my brilliant mind, my _crazy_ mind.”  Because, suddenly, it was too much.  She couldn’t let Oliver keep painting this as a product of her genius.  Sometimes, Felicity thought he put her on a pedestal and that just may be why he blamed himself for everything, even when it was _clearly_ her fault.

Before she knew it, Felicity was rambling, “The thing is, sometimes, I have these weird senses or sensations or feelings…these odd intuitions or…I don’t even know what to call them, but _sometimes_ , I almost convince myself I have premonitions.  It’s  _completely_  insane.”

And…blurting all that out…why did she _do_ _that_?  Felicity didn’t want to be on a pedestal, but…she didn’t want to be in an asylum either.

Oliver froze.  Hands on the slab covering the tomb, mid-pull…he went as still as the stone he was gripping.  Well, at least he was  _really_  listening now.  He slowly straightened and pivoted to look Felicity in the eye.  “What are you  _talking_  about?”

Crap.  What was wrong with her?  Now he  _actually_  thought she was insane.  Next thing she knew, Oliver would be questioning her fitness for duty.  Which he  _should_ , but…things had been going so well and now she was ruining it.  Again. 

Now what?  Did Felicity risk telling the truth and getting a Psych referral or…dammit, of  _course_ , Felicity had to tell the truth.  Where did secrets ever get her? 

“I dunno, I…I guess sometimes I just get these intuitions about things.  They’re more feelings than thoughts.”  Felicity wrung her hands together and tried not to grimace as she waited for his response.

The look Oliver gave her was clearly upset.  “Since when?”

Since when was she  _crazy_?  How the hell did Felicity answer that?  “It’s just around the Mayan stuff,” she babbled, as if  _that_  made it better.  “Looking back, I think it started right away, as soon as we came here.  I just didn’t really think anything of it.  I…I told you I got this feeling that Reiter was evil.”  She said the last defensively, because the look on his face…it made her feel like she needed to defend herself.

Oliver shook his head, frowning.  But he wasn’t looking at her like he thought she was crazy.  He looked…blind-sided?  Maybe even a little angry?  “That was just good sense,” he argued.  “Reiter _was_ evil.”

“Well, that’s true—”

“Felicity, that can’t be all—”

“The night before Tikal I had this really strong premonition of doom,” Felicity finally blurted out.

And the look on Oliver’s face…there went the truth bomb…

Peeww…crash…rumble everywhere…

And  _still_ , Felicity couldn’t stop talking, “That was the first time it really seemed like anything.  Anything significant, I mean.  I didn’t feel it again…until I saw the photograph of the door.”  She pressed her lips together, praying for the words to stop.

Oliver stared at her, his eyes wide.  Then he blew out a breath and asked quietly, “That was why you were crying that night?  In Guatemala?”

And… _wonderful_ , somehow, Felicity had managed to bring up  _that_  night.  Fan- _frakin_ -tastic.

“Yeah.”  She couldn’t even look at Oliver.  Not if they were going to talk about  _that_  night. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt in Oliver’s voice was palpable.

Oh.  So  _that_  was why he was upset.  It all made so much sense now.  Oliver would have been gentler if h _e_  thought she was off her rocker.  The look on his face would be concerned not…betrayed.   _Frak_. 

Felicity shook her head.  “Lots of reasons.  At first, I didn’t think it was anything…I still don’t know if I think it’s anything.  Because…it’s  _insane_.  Insane enough that it feels really, really weird to even say out loud.  Which I never have, by the way, not even to the therapist they made me…anyway…”

“And that night?” Oliver asked, sounding a little bit lost.  It broke Felicity’s heart all over again.  “Why didn’t you tell me then.”

“I didn’t want to upset you…” Oliver frowned, starting to interrupt her, until Felicity quickly added, “I didn’t want it to be true.  I didn’t want to say it out loud, because I couldn’t…” Great, now her voice cracked. “I wanted it to be nothing.”

“Well…” Oliver rested his hands on the limestone slab and let his head fall forward, his jaw clenching, looking like he was gathering strength.  “It  _wasn’t_  nothing, so we can’t rule out this being  _something_.”   Then he threw himself back into his task, pulling at the slab with new strength, making it creak and give way.

Felicity swallowed, tensing.  She really didn’t like the way Oliver was yanking on that thing, his full weight behind it.  He really was going to get hurt this time and it would be entirely her fault.    “If it’s any consolation…it isn’t a premonition of  _doom_  this time.   It’s just a feeling.  Like that something is  _here_.”

“That’s good,” Oliver gritted, between clenched teeth, sounding like he meant it not at all.  His whole body was engaged in a fight against the monumental weight of the stone.  He seemed irritable now.  And really, really tense.

Oliver got the slab more than halfway off before stopping, his chest heaving with the effort and Felicity held her breath.  She had this terrible feeling it was going to fall on him and she hoped _that_ wasn’t a premonition.  

Oliver had to concentrate so, of  _course_ , Felicity started babbling again, “You know it’s probably nothing.  All of it.  I’m just overthinking everything.  That so-called premonition of doom at Tikal was probably just good sense too—”

But, somehow, that seemed to upset him even more, if Felicity judged by the way Oliver pushed the slab down with a little too much force and—

_Thunk_!

The floor shook and Felicity jumped, her hands flying to her chest.  The slab flipped over and crashed to the floor.

Bang!

“Shit!  Fuck!” 

“Oh, my  _god_ , Oliver! Are you okay?!”  Did it land on him?  It didn’t look like it landed on him, though maybe his foot—

“I’m fine, just… _fuck_!” Oliver swore again, looking more frustrated with himself than anything.  That didn’t stop Felicity from rushing over to him to inspect him…but not touch.  She had no right to touch, especially after distracting him and babbling and spewing truth bombs like an idiot.

But of course, Oliver blamed himself.  Shaking his head, he looked down at the fallen slab.  “Sorry, I…”

Then Oliver’s breath hitched, his tone changing dramatically when he said, “Oh wow,  _Felicity_ …”

Her eyes followed Oliver’s.   The top of the tomb had careened backward, hitting the floor.  Hard.  And what looked like a layer of red clay on the inside surface had cracked.

Oliver crouched over, brushing the dust aside and as he did, carved limestone was revealed.  Felicity’s heart stopped, then accelerated rapidly, excitement washing through her.  She fell to her knees next to Oliver, frantically helping him wipe away the red flakes and powder, moving faster and faster as more and more was revealed.

It couldn’t be…

But it  _was_.

A carving of the Mayan Sun, the symbol of Kin Cuudad, a full foot in diameter.  And below that, a girl with long gilded hair…covered in  _real_  gold, kneeling in front of a man.  The Daughter of the Sun and the Sun Warrior…

Oh, dear god in heaven. _This_  was what they were looking for.  They found it.

Oliver shot Felicity a wry half smile.  “Looks like this premonition wasn’t nothing either.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167321302244/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-8))
> 
> This chapter is the beginning of a huge turning point for this story.  I’m very excited for everything that is coming up.  The pace will be picking up so I hope you enjoyed a few quiet moments between our heroes.
> 
> About how a Russian eats an egg…I have no idea if they have any special way.  Before writing this I had in my head that there would be some super cool efficient way Oliver could teach Felicity about.  When I googled it, all I got was a video you can find the above link.  That was the inspiration for the scene.   
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr or Twitter for updates on all my stories and extra tid-bits.
> 
> Now I need to thank the lovely  **Ireland1733** for her tireless support and efforts to help me with my writing.  Especially for being available for every insecure freak-out I have.  Welcome and a huge thanks to  **imusuallyobsessed**  for pinch hitting for me at the last minute to help me beta this while  **Fairytalehearts**  is away.  Thank you for the awesome feedback and keeping me endlessly inspired.  (And  **Fairytalehearts.** Miss you!  Can’t wait until you are back1)
> 
> Please leave your thoughts.  I’m so excited to see what you think (and if you liked it a quick kudos is a nice treat too :- ))
> 
> Thanks, and Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	10. Chapter 9: Palenque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 17, 2016_  
_08:17_  
_Palenque, Mexico_  

 

“That’s the queen, right?” Oliver asked, almost in a whisper.  “The one from the Lost City?”

Felicity glanced at Oliver, then back at the carvings…fresco…it was both really...wow!

She found herself laughing with sheer awe.  “Yeah, yeah, it’s gotta be.”  She had never…hadn’t _dreamed_ …to find something like this…it was  _incredible_.  It was like a window straight into the world of the Ancient Mayan.  How many centuries had it been since anyone had seen this?

Brushing aside the rust colored powder, Felicity revealed more and more of the woman with the gold-gilded hair as she knelt in front of her similarly positioned mate.  At least Felicity assumed…no, that was  _definitely_  the Warrior King.  The markings.  The profile.  There was no one else it could to be!

“Though, I’m kind of surprised you remember that,” Felicity murmured, her attention divided as she leaned down and blew some of the dust away.  Oliver had never seemed all that interested in the details of the Mayan Mythology.  He was more of a bottom line kind of guy.

“Forget the Mayan Princess with the _real_ gold hair?” Oliver ran a finger along the length of carving’s hair as it cascaded to the floor.  That alone was very unusual amongst the Mayans, whose hair was usually portrayed as up in elaborate braids and loops. 

And the gold, the veneer, was incredibly well preserved.  The way it shinned… 

“Wow.  Do you think it’s real gold like the others?” Felicity breathed.  Every other carving, and there were maybe three depictions (four now, if this was for real) of the Daughter of the Sun had  _real_  gold hair.  This must be too, but Felicity…she was almost afraid to hope.

Oliver shook his head.  “I’m not an expert, but,” he too, blew on the area to clear more dust, “it sure looks like it.”

Somehow, Oliver’s  _inexpert_  opinion made it all the more real and excitement bubbled.  Felicity’s heart sped up and her boot tapped on the hard ground trying to release a new excess energy. 

She popped up, scrambling to grab her small archaeology kit from her bag, pulling out a brush.  When Felicity knelt back down, Oliver was pouring water from his canteen onto a bandanna and carefully, almost lovingly, wiping residue off the girl. 

The colors, the pigmented fresco, the carvings were incredible, yet…Felicity was having trouble pulling her eyes from Oliver’s face.

Despite her excitement over the discovery, for a moment, Felicity had to stop and stare.   At Oliver. 

His anger had melted away in the excitement…and it was pretty incredible that he appeared to be as enthusiastic as she was, as in awe.  That  _feeling_ , the sixth sense that had just been causing them so much angst, twisted and expanded as Felicity watched him.  And it wasn’t of doom and gloom this time.  It was of… _rightness_. 

“She has sapphire eyes,” Oliver murmured, pulling Felicity back to the here and now.

“Moonstone,” Felicity corrected automatically, shaking herself out of her mini daze. “They don’t have sapphire in this part of the world.  They used blue moonstone…”

Felicity trailed off as she caught Oliver’s eyes, so much bluer than any moonstone.  He didn’t look annoyed at the correction.  He never did.  He just looked at her with a small fond smile, apparently, having forgiven…or forgotten his irritation over her not telling him about her strange intuitions so long ago. 

She had been so afraid that she’d messed up bad this time.  Swallowing, Felicity returned his smile.  She liked this Oliver so much better and was incredibly grateful to have him back.

Then, because it would be so easy to get lost in Oliver’s eyes and that was the last thing they needed, Felicity deliberately turned her attention back to the slab, working to clean the figure kneeling in front of the woman.

Oliver finished cleaning off the princess…queen…(Felicity wasn’t really sure which was the most correct translation) and he ran his finger over her gilded hair.  It certainly looked like real gold.  What else could survive the centuries like this?  But it was the  _way_  Oliver ran his finger down that carving…

It sent shivers across Felicity’s skin.  The good kind.  The  _dangerous_  kind.

“The golden-haired blue-eyed child of the sun god,” Oliver recited, almost to himself.  “Plucked from heaven and sent to rule over the gods’ most beloved city.  Not a story easily forgotten.”

Felicity’s breath hitched.  Oliver had the most romantic soul.   That was something  _she_  had never forgotten.  “No, I suppose not.  It’s a lovely fairytale.”

Oliver's fingers found the queen’s pert-little (rather  _un_ Mayan) nose.  “You doubt she existed?” He turned his eyes on Felicity and the intensity in his gaze made her twitchy, nervous.

“No…no…I mean…”  Goodness, Oliver was close.  Why had Felicity sat so close to him?  She never knew what was good for her.  She never  _did_  what was good for her.  “I’m sure she _existed_.  Probably.  I mean Pocahontas  _existed_ , but I’m pretty sure she never sang a duet with a tree.”

Oliver gave her a mock horrified look.  “Felicity…it’s Pocahontas, of  _course_ , she sang with the trees.  She sang with all the voices of the mountains.”

Felicity burst out with a trill of laughter that she hadn’t even thought she had in her any more.  “Of course, how foolish of me.” 

“Thank you,” Oliver hummed, his smile still in place as he used his bandana in wider and wider circles.  “As the girl who has _premonitions_ , I’d think you’d have more faith.”

Her eyes widened and Felicity was glad Oliver wasn’t looking at her just then.  Had he truly just… _teased_  her about that?  In a  _lighthearted_  way?  That was quite the 180.  Not that she was complaining. 

Swallowing, Felicity managed to say, “To be fair, I think I have about an equal amount of  _faith_  that my premonitions are real as I do that the Daughter of the Sun was real.”

Oliver shook his head, his eyes twinkling.  “Ever the skeptic.  It was all that time in MIT, I tell you.”

This was  _her_  Oliver and it just filled her with…Felicity felt strange and warm and  _happy_ ….

That was the weirdest of all of them.  And after their near fight just a short while ago, it left Felicity almost dizzy.  When was the last time she’d felt happy?  Not fine.  Not content…but  _happy_.  Of course, it had been brought to the surface by her secret sweet funny Oliver.  The one only she got to see. 

Had Oliver been saving this side of himself just for her all these years?  Did anyone else get to see it?  That though was both sad and intoxicating.  But no matter what, the mere fact that Oliver was letting Felicity see him like this after all this time brought tears to her eyes. 

“Actually,” Oliver murmured as he turned his eyes back to the princess, his lips still curved in a small smile.  “She always kind of reminded me of you.”

At that, Felicity’s heart did this weird leaping thing and she had  _another_  strange sensation…like déjà vu, but different.  Surely, this wasn’t another premonition.  Surely, the reaction was just because it was  _the_  most romantic thing.  And from the man whose heart she broke.

So, of course, Felicity said something equally romantic and eloquent.  “I die my hair.”

God, she was a doofus.

But Oliver…sweet wonderful Oliver, who she deserved not at all, chuckled.  Looking at Felicity sideways, he suggested, “Maybe she did too.”

That made Felicity smile, relieved for the safer turn to the conversation.  “That’s actually very likely.  How many Mayans have you seen with anything but dark, dark hair.”  Because the Mayans, rather their descendants, still very much lived today.  Just like the Iroquois and the Cherokee and the Aztecs, they were all that was left to a once great Native American Nation.   

Oliver’s slid her a sly look and a cracked smile, “Next you’re going tell me she didn’t  _actually_  have blue eyes.”

Felicity shrugged, unable to meet his gaze.  She could feel herself blush.  Was he  _flirting_  with her?  It really _felt_ like he was flirting with her.  And this wasn’t even the first time she’d had to ask herself that question in the last twenty-four hours.  Oliver sent her another smile, one that sent a shiver tripping over her skin and a bolt of arousal to her core. 

Yeah, Oliver was _definitely_ flirting with her.  Question was, what was Felicity going to do about it?

“All the early Mayan rulers, pre-Pacal, were depicted with blue moonstone eyes.  Legend says that since they were the descendants of the gods, they a small piece of the sky in their eyes.”

It wasn’t the most flirtatious thing she could have said…actually, it wasn’t suggestive at all, but for some reason, it felt… _intimate_. 

Felicity felt herself just kind of falling into Oliver’s eyes ( _that_ blue truly put the moonstone to shame) and it seemed impossible to break the hold they had on her.  She was in so  _so_  much trouble.

“Well,” Oliver licked his lips and Felicity just couldn’t keep her eyes off the path of his tongue, “I refuse to believe that the queen didn’t have blue eyes.  It would be far too disappointing.”

Felicity bit back a giggle…what the  _hell_  was wrong with her? She didn’t remember feeling this much like a lovesick teenager when she  _was_  a teenager.  Not when they first started dating. Not…well,  _ever_. 

She had to forcibly pull her eyes from Oliver’s, and it didn't even work the first time.  Finally, Felicity was able to get her gaze (if not her focus) back on the carving and she leaned over to blow the dust from the Warrior King.

She ran her finger over the handsome, if indistinct, profile.  The Sun Warrior’s nose was straight, not at all the hooked Mayan beak usually depicted.  “He has moonstone eyes too.”  Actually, it could have been Oliver sitting there across from his queen with his blue eyes and dark hair pulled back in intricate braids (that was,  _if_  Oliver had dark hair). 

It was a silly and fanciful notion.  So why did it have Felicity’s heart pounding?

“I couldn’t care less what color  _his_  eyes were.”

This time, a giggle actually escaped before Felicity was able to bite her cheek to stop it.  She asked herself again,  _what_  was wrong with her?  She felt almost drunk.  But really, the idea that  _Oliver Queen_  had a vested interest in the color of a several millennia old mythical princess’ eyes was so absurd that it was hard not to laugh. 

What was wrong with  _them_?

"Well…I might have a theory that could explain how she could have _actually_ had blue eyes and blond hair.”  Felicity barely recognized the raspy tone of her own voice.  Oh, wow, now _she_ was flirting.

Oliver’s answering smile made it worth it though.  Hopefully.   “That’s my girl.  Lay it on me.”

Her heart all but seized when he said that.  Oliver really needed to dial it back a bit or Felicity might just have an aneurism.

Felicity cleared her suddenly dry throat, her voice coming out unintentionally husky when she answered, “Vikings.”

“Vikings?” Oliver repeated, simultaneously baffled and amused.

“Mmmhmm.  Many people believe that the Vikings discovered America centuries before Columbus.  They just had no interest in it, so they left and went home.”

“So…” Oliver gave her a lop-sided smile. “You think a little Viking girl…what? Stole away in a Viking ship for the months it would take to make it here from Scandinavia and then...wandered into a Mayan Stronghold?”

Well, it _did_ sound silly when Oliver put it that way.  Felicity screwed her mouth up to the side.  “No, I think…”

“Ahhhh…you think a Viking ‘plundered’ a young _Mayan_ girl?”  Oliver gave her a knowing look and Felicity shrugged.  Because,  _yes_ , that was her theory.  “Then he left and she presented her blonde-haired blue-eyed baby as a gift from the gods?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Felicity nodded. 

Oliver seemed to be considering it.  Then he nodded as well.  “That is an  _excellent_  theory.”  He sounded impressed and it made Felicity want to preen. 

Smiling, Felicity took the brush and started cleaning off the carvings as swiftly as she could.  Palenque had gone from a waste of time to not having nearly enough of it to examine it all.  Besides, suddenly, she had all this excess nervous energy to burn off.  “Of course, with dominant and recessive traits,” she mused as she cleared away more red clay, “it’s unlikely that the blonde would have—”

“Oh, stop ruining it with science.”

That really made Felicity laughed.  But it hurt too.  She missed this so much.  Much more than she had realized.  Shooting Oliver a teasing grin, she warned, “I’m going to tell Caitlin you said that.”

Oh, dear god, was that a blush?  Oliver bit his lip and his eyes fell away as he doubled his efforts cleaning the slab as well.  Felicity had forgotten how embarrassed he became at the mere mention of the others seeing him like this.  Which was **absurd**.  This was the very best of him. 

But she had to be careful, the last thing Felicity wanted was to scare  _this_  Oliver away.  “Well, recessive traits do occasionally shine through.  Genetics is complex.”  The look he sent her was so warm, she found she had to clear her throat before she could keep speaking.  “It’s still the best theory I have.”  Assuming that any of these people actually existed in the first place and they weren’t just a fairytale.

Oliver’s answering smile was oddly shy.  He seemed intent on cleaning the princess as well as he possibly could, so Felicity worked on getting the dust off the rest of the scene.  Then he asked quietly, “Did your dream show any of this?”

Felicity froze, because…okay, not prepared for  _that_  question.  And she’d thought… _hoped_  they were done with that conversation.  Swallowing, she made herself answer, “No.  Not at all.  Like I said, it was indistinct, no carvings, no Daughter of the Sun or her Warrior King…just tombs and Pical and King Cadmeal and his wife dancing...”

Oliver’s head jerked up, his face splitting into a delighted grin.  The twinkle in his eye just made Felicity want to die of embarrassment.  Why did she have to mention  _that_  part?  Clearly, it wasn’t important. 

“Was it more of a waltz or maybe the Macarena—”

“Very funny.”  And if their relationship was what it used to be, Felicity would have swatted him.

“What?  It could be important!”  But the look on Oliver’s face said he thought no such thing.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity tried to shut down his teasing with a, “It was a very tribal sort of dance, okay?”  She really didn’t mind being teased by Oliver in general but being teased about the dream…it just seemed like it could go very wrong.

“So, with drums and…Felicity?  What’s that around her neck?” Oliver asked, his tone losing its playful lilt.

Felicity looked up from where she was cleaning clay off the sun carving and the hieroglyphs above it.  “Where?”

Oliver pointed to a piece of jewelry around the queen’s neck and Felicity squinted.  It was too small to get a good look at it. 

“I dunno.”  She reached for her watch and turned her glasses into a magnifier, leaning closer to where Oliver was pointing.  “Wow, that is  _detailed_.  It’s a…huh…it’s a moonstone.  How the heck were they able to carve something that small?  Out of a gemstone of all things?” 

It was incredible.  Felicity moved her enhanced eyes over to the Warrior to examine him for similar details. 

“Do you think it’s a representation of a real piece of jewelry?” Oliver asked, all teasing gone as he helped her by wiping dust away from the warrior with his wet bandanna.  He may find her dancing dream Mayans fodder for teasing, but this… _this_ he was taking very seriously.

“Why else would they go to the trouble of carving something so small?  Thank you…oh  _wow_ , look at this…” Felicity pointed to the warrior’s chest, feeling another bubble of excitement.  “He has this crazy detailed sun medallion around his neck.”

Oliver leaned closer, squinting.  Of course, without the magnification it would be hard to make out. 

“Here,” Felicity placed her glasses on Oliver’s face, blinking as the world suddenly got very blurry.

But as soon as they were settled on the bridge of Oliver’s nose his head jerked back.  Almost immediately, he snatched the glasses from his face and rubbed his eyes.  “Felicity…” He shook his head, chuckling, before turning the glasses and placing them back on her face.  “Your vision is  _terrible_.”

“Tell me about it.”  But Felicity’s voice was barely working because Oliver was smoothing the glasses over her ears and brushing hair from her face.  It was easy to get it to stay, what with all the sweat.  It was starting to get really humid down there.  “I guess they’re only calibrated for me,” she mumbled, completely flustered.

Oliver swallowed and he was close enough that Felicity couldn’t help but watch his Adam’s apple ripple under his stubble.  Thankfully, he turned his eyes back to the carving before he caught her staring.  She hoped. 

“Do you think that’s the Gift?” Oliver’s asked, startling her. 

“What?  The medallion?” 

Actually, that hadn’t occurred to Felicity (and she really hoped it wasn’t because she was so damn distracted by the line of Oliver’s neck), but now that he mentioned it (and she was able to take a good look without letting herself get distracted) it set her weird Spidey Sense a tingling.  She grabbed the bandanna out of Oliver’s hand and cleaned off the warrior’s necklace, leaning down to get a closer look.

“Or the moonstone pendant?” Oliver suggested and Felicity had to bite her lip to keep from making a teasing comment.  He was, maybe, just a teeny bit fixated on this princess and, for some reason, that made her feel rather warm inside.

Felicity tried to blow out a breath as subtly as possible.  “There really isn’t a great description of the Gift anywhere.  Why do you think it might be a necklace?”  Besides the fact that Oliver seemed to have a tiny crush on the Daughter of the Sun. 

And Felicity wasn’t even jealous.  Of course, being jealous would be absurd, given…dead for multiple millennia and…

Anyway, it wasn’t that Felicity was ruling out the possibility that the queen’s necklace was the Gift.  In fact, it was probably the best theory they had.

Oliver shook his head and shrugged, his eyes falling away.  “Not sure…I guess, if it was important enough for them to put the effort into carving something so small.”  He swallowed, then murmured, “Maybe I’m having my own… _intuition_ or something.  But I feel like those necklaces mean something.”

Her eyes moved over Oliver’s face, even though he was decidedly  _not_  looking at her.  But despite his earlier words, he wasn’t prone to flights of fancy and his instincts were excellent.  Felicity looked back and forth between the two stone figures with new gravity. 

 

“What’s that they are doing with their hands?” Felicity tilted her head.  At first glance it just looked like they were entwined, but…

“They aren’t just holding hands?” Oliver’s voice was so low now, it felt like a caress.  Lord, this was hazardous to her health…her  _mental_  health. 

Focus, Felicity!  “No, I…look at their fingers.  They’re spread out, not closed together.”

“Maybe it’s just hard to carve hands?” Oliver suggested with a tiny shrug.

It made Felicity smile.  "Oliver, considering the intricacies of this carving, I really can't imagine it’s a mistake."  Really, this was the most elaborate scene Felicity had ever seen from  _any_  ancient world.  Ever.  Though, it also hadn’t weathered the centuries out in the elements either.

“So…what do you think they’re doing?” Oliver’s shoulder was pressed against hers now, making it hard to keep her mind on the task at hand…ha, hands…that was a good one.

Okay…she was losing it.  Felicity shook her head, more to clear it from her tumbling thoughts then in answer to Oliver’s question.  It was a damn good thing her brain could multitask.  She spread out her fingers with overlapping thumbs, comparing it with the carving.  “Not sure…”

Leaning close, Oliver whispered, “You think they’re making butterfly wings?”

She smacked him before she had a moment to stop and think about it.  Thankfully, Oliver chuckled, seeming pleased at his joke  _and_  her reaction.  Felicity head no idea what to do with  _that_.  “Stop making fun of me and  _look_!  They’re making a pattern.”

Still chuckling, Oliver obliged, leaning so close that the entire side of his body was pressed against hers.  “Yeah, I…” He made the same butterfly pattern as Felicity, then held his hands under hers, but at an angle so their fingers spread out in all directions.  “Does it kind look like—?”

“A  _sun_!  It kind of looks like a sun, right?”  Felicity felt a burst of elation as she said it and angled her whole body towards Oliver to improve the picture made by their combined hands.

“Kind of.”  Oliver’s voice was husky, distracted, but Felicity was intent on the carving.  This was too important to lose focus now.

Then Felicity had the strongest sense of déjà vu she had felt yet and she realized… 

“I’ve seen this before…”

“Really?  Where?” 

It was a whisper in her ear.  Oliver’s breath warm on her cheek.  They were almost… _cuddled_  up against each other.  How had she missed that?  Felicity’s hands on top of his.  Their fingers almost tangled together.  His lips by her ear…

Felicity couldn’t breathe.  She completely lost whatever Oliver asked her…because she _couldn’t_ breathe.  Her skin was on fire and her brain was foggy and all she seemed to be able to focus on was the way his body pressed against hers. 

She turned her head.  Toward him.  Why _toward_ him?  She should be pulling  _away_.  Safety was  _away_.  Felicity had never been a masochist before. 

“I don’t know.” Felicity didn’t even know what the question was. But, still, she felt it was a good answer.  For… _everything_.

Oliver’s lips were right there.  If he moved an inch closer…

Then he did.  Oliver shifted and Felicity could feel his breath on her lips and, oh _god_ , he was going to kiss her.  He was  _going to kiss her_. 

After five years and innumerable days, Felicity was going to feel Oliver’s lips on hers and she wanted that so badly and…

But what then?  It didn’t stop with a kiss.  It could _never_ stop with a kiss.  Felicity wouldn’t even want it to.

Felicity would have to tell him.  She would have to tell Oliver  _everything_.  There was so much he still didn’t know.  He was going to feel so betrayed.  Would it be worse if she kissed him first?  How could she let him kiss her when he didn’t _know_? 

Would Oliver be furious?  Would he be _crushed_?  Would this kiss…this kiss Felicity could already taste…make it all worse?  For her?  For him?

Now Felicity  _really_  couldn’t breathe.  Her heart was beating way too fast and she couldn’t seem to get enough air in her lungs.  The walls were closing in and her vision were blurring…

Then…Oliver’s hands were no longer beneath hers, they were on her shoulders, squeezing, pushing her back, holding her  _away_  from him, the firm pressure bringing Felicity back to herself.  But then she  _was_  away from him and if she knew one thing, she knew that she didn’t want  _that_.

“Are you okay?”  Oliver’s face wasn’t nearly as close when he asked this time and Felicity didn’t know if she was relieved or if she wanted to cry. 

Cry.   _Definitely_ , cry. 

Because the last thing Felicity had wanted was Oliver to think him almost kissing her had triggered a panic attack.

Even though that was  _exactly_  what just happened.  This was a new low, even for her.  She’d be back in therapy after all this was over, Felicity just knew it.  Assuming she survived, that is.

“I’m fine.  I just…” Desperate to make this better, she reached for Oliver’s hand, but found his thigh instead.  She supposed her vision was still off. 

Oh, the hell with it. 

Felicity squeezed Oliver’s leg and closed her eyes, taking slow, measured breaths, saying, “I’m just feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.” 

If only she had a reasonable ( _not_  insulting) explanation as to  _why_  she was feeling lightheaded. 

Oliver started to pull away and Felicity dug her nails into his thigh, blurting out, “Don’t go,” a little too desperately for her taste, but she supposed seeming pathetic was the least of her concerns at the moment.   But still, he leaned away and, god, Felicity wanted to  _sob_.  Why was she so fucked up?

But then Oliver’s arm settled around her shoulders.  “I’m here.”  Felicity felt a canteen pressed to her lips.  “Drink.”

Oliver was too good to her.  Felicity didn’t deserve him. 

But she drank, took great gulps of the cool water and leaned into Oliver’s shoulder and it helped.  Almost too much.

“Better?”

Nodding, Felicity wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, wishing she didn’t feel like a child.  “Uh huh.”

Oliver took the canteen away and then…he wasn’t touching her anymore.  Felicity had ruined it.  The way she ruined _everything_. 

And as if to prove her right, Oliver stood, not even looking at her as he said, “I’m going to open that last tomb.  See if there’s another…secret message or something.”

He sounded unsure.  Felicity hated it when Oliver sounded unsure.  But why wouldn’t he? Mixed messages thy name was Felicity Smoak.  Maybe if she decided what message she  _wanted to send_  that would help.

“Good idea,” Felicity forced herself to say.  She even managed a smile.  A completely fake smile, but still. 

Oliver might have even noticed if he would look at her.  Swallowing, Felicity pushed up her glasses and pressed her thumbs against her closed eyes, willing the tears to stay where they were.  Why did god hate her?

“Uh, Felicity…” Oliver called, his tone back to the way it was before their little foray down the path of destruction via flirtation.  “You gotta see this.”  He was looking down at the tomb, the one that the slab had come from.

Felicity struggled to get to her feet, eager for whatever was already distracting Oliver.  Her right foot was asleep and she was still unsteady from her mini-panic attack and…suddenly there was a hand on her elbow, steadying her. 

Incredible.  Even with everything, Oliver was always there to catch her.  Felicity wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

“Thanks…oh  _wow_ …” Felicity breathed as she caught sight of the shrouded body.  It was magnificent.  

Well, the body was shriveled and gross, but everything else…wow oh _wow_ it was amazing. 

And god _bless_ the Mayans.  They had come through for Felicity a second time in less than an hour, giving them something to focus on besides the personal history and tension (all kinds) between them. 

“Have you ever seen a  _gold_  mask before?” Oliver asked, almost reverent.

Felicity shook her head.  “Not in the Mayan world.  It’s always Jade.”

Jade, which was beautiful but, well, rock.  It had to be pieced together into a mosaic to form a full human mask, instead of melted and molded seamlessly like gold.  It was amazing how much detail the Mayan’s were still able to create with the jade but… _the gold_ …

It was so intricate.  It almost looked alive.  They could clearly see what this man (and surely those were masculine features) looked like when he was alive.  It was extraordinary.

The face portrayed by the mask had some of typical Mayan features, but they were softened, with almost European traits mixed in.  It certainly led credence to Felicity’s Viking theory but…

Wow, did that mean that  _this_  man was related to those ancient rulers?  The ones that had come _before_ Pacal?   The carved moonstone eyes (again, instead of jade) imbedded in the gold, staring up at them so eerily, seemed to argue that very thing.

“I think you need to try and publish your Viking theory,” Oliver whispered, making Felicity huff out a laugh.  Feeling teary-eyed again, but this time it was because of the weight of this discovery and everything it could mean.  And, maybe a little, because of how grateful she was to have Oliver to share it with.

“I may just consider it.”  Though Felicity doubted ARGUS would allow such a thing.  She leaned in closer.  This shroud was of much better material than the first two corpses and it was still mostly intact.  Was that  _gold_  weaved right into the fabric?  And his hands…oh, wow…oh wow, oh wow.  “Oliver, look at his hands!  Are they…?”

“Spread out like the carving…yeah,” Oliver nodded.  Then he pulled himself up tall.  “I want to see what’s inside that last tomb.”  This time, it was clear that he wasn’t trying to avoid her.  He just  _really_  wanted to see what was in that last tomb. 

"Yeah," Felicity whispered back, because it was an excellent idea even if she was pretty damn distracted with what was in this one. 

There were carved glyphs on the inside of the tomb above the man’s head and she was so engrossed in translating that she jumped when a loud  _thunk bang_  sounded behind her.  Felicity’s eyes flew to the second (well,  _fourth_ really) slab, now lying on the floor next to the Kin Cuudad carving, before jerking to Oliver.

Shrugging unapologetically, Oliver answered Felicity’s unasked question. “What?  Now that I know dropping it helped, it makes the whole thing a lot easier.”

Felicity smiled, glad for anything that cut the tension after the almost kiss.  They may not be back to where they were before, but hopefully they could get back to camp before a third incident popped up and Oliver decided he’d had enough. 

She bit back a sigh.  Life was just so unfair.  Why were the only things worth having the ones that could destroy you?

“Any secret messages?” Felicity asked, trying to maintain something resembling a professional veneer.  She doubted she was succeeding.

Oliver crouched down in front of the slab, brushing the surface.  He muttered a disappointed, “Damn.”  Before looking up at her and saying, “Nope.  Nothing but solid limestone.”

“That’s alright.  As it is I have so much translating here, we’ll probably have to delay heading to the Door.”  It was very true.  They already found more here than Felicity had ever dared hope for.

Oliver shook his head.  “Tourists come back tomorrow.”   

Frak.  Of _course_ , they did.  Nothing could be easy, could it?  Felicity needed more time, dammit.  They’d have to work through the night and leave at dawn. “Maybe we’ll get a hurricane?”  That would certainly keep the tourists at home and she couldn’t imagine a safer place than this hole during a storm. 

Unless it was still just her and Oliver.  That would be  _un_ safe on a whole different level.

“One can only hope,” Oliver answered wryly.

Felicity met his gaze and they laughed together.  Life was seriously surreal if she was stuck in a concrete box with Oliver, wishing for a hurricane.  But…thank goodness Oliver didn’t seem to be holding any of her erratic behavior against her.  And if he was keeping himself at a little more of a distance, then…that was probably for the best. 

Especially until Felicity found a way to tell him everything.  And the more time they spent together, the more that conversation became inevitable.  It was just something she was going to have to accept.  Plan for, even.

Oliver straightened up, looking at the slabs now lying on the ground, hands on his hips.  “I think we’re done with the heavy lifting for now.”  We’re?  As if Felicity had done anything.  “Do you want me to finished cleaning off the carving?  I know I don’t have Caitlin’s delicate touch—”

“Your touch is plenty delicate.”  Oh  _god_ …did she just say that?  Felicity winced as Oliver sent her a raised eyebrow.  “I mean… _please_ , go ahead and give it your best shot…I mean, brush …I’m going to stop talking now.”

Luckily, Felicity got off with a soft chuckle from Oliver as he did what she asked without another word.  Thank  _god_.  Felicity wasn’t sure if she could handle another word. 

They lapsed into a…not  _un_ comfortable silence as they both worked on their own area. 

It was after some time passed, long enough for Felicity to really get into the zone, that Oliver suggested, "We should be able to get some good pictures.  If we have to leave before you’re done."

Distracted, Felicity mumbled, “No digital evidence, remember?”

“Well, we certainly don’t have a  _film_  camera.  Isn’t your tablet unhack—”

“Eeee!  Oliver!”  Felicity squealed as it became clear exactly what she had just translated.  “ _Oliver_ , get over here!”

She had been over it four times now and…it _had_ to be!  She was practically…who was she kidding…she was _hopping up and down_ she was so fraking giddy.  Oh god!  Oh wow!  This couldn’t be real.  Oh,  _please,_  let it be real! 

Oliver was at her side in a moment.  “What?”

Grabbing his arm, Felicity squeed.  Yes,  _squeed_.  “Oliver, do you know who this is?   _This_  is King Cadmeal!”

The stare she got back was blank.  Of course, Oliver didn’t remember Cadmeal.   _He_  wasn’t a pretty girl with gold hair.  “ _Their son_.” Felicity gestured, a little frantically, to the carving on the ground.  “The one who founded Palenque.”

“Seriously?”  Oliver’s eyes widened and he looked at the corpse with more interest.  “The one from your dream?”

Oliver  _would_  remember that part.  But…nodding, kinda like a crazy person, Felicity pointed to the glyphs.  “That’s what this says.  And it makes sense, what with the hidden message and the gold mask and the moonstone eyes and the slightly less than typical Mayan features.”  She was almost vibrating by the end.  This alone would change  _everything_  they knew about this area of the world.

“Shouldn’t this be famous then?” Oliver asked gravely, throwing cold water on Felicity’s exuberance.  “How could the archeologists that came before us have possibly missed the founder of Palenque?”

Oliver was right.  It made no sense.  Frowning, Felicity rubbed her forehead, undoubtedly making it even more streaked with dust and sweat.  “You would think.  But the glyphs are clear and…I mean, it _could_ be a hoax but that doesn’t make any sense either.  If they found a hoax, wouldn’t they have dated it?  Wouldn’t they have _removed_ it, if it wasn’t real?” 

But if it  _was_  real, the only thing that made sense was…that Oliver and Felicity were the first people to see this in two plus millennia and, while that was understandable with the hidden carving, this corpse…with all the people swarming over Palenque, how could _this_ have been missed?

“I really don’t think  _that_ ,” Oliver pointed to the slab on the floor, “is a hoax, but…it’s weird, right?”

“It  _really_  is.”  Felicity’s eyes darted around the chamber at the different clues.  And the non-clues. 

Then Felicity realized she was still touching Oliver, still clutching his arm.  Not panicking, though.  That was good.  She leaned closer him, just to test the waters and felt his hand land lightly on her waist.  Breathing normal.  Heart rate steady.  O- _kay_.  Good.  This was good.

“You know what this means?”  Felicity asked, trying to keep them both (mostly her) focused on the task at hand.  Also, it would probably help avert another panic attack.

Raising his eyebrows, Oliver said with all seriousness, “I  _hope_  it means there is something here that will help us get to Kin Cuudad before Darhk does.”

“Well, yes, I hope that too but…” Felicity shivered as the pieces fell together and she said it all out loud, a giddy sort of elation washing over her.  “It means that he was  _real_.  And if King Cadmeal was a real person then they,” she pointed to the floor, “were probably real and that means—”

“Kin Cuudad is real.”  Oliver’s voice sounded as reverent as hers.  In that instant, Felicity was so very glad she was sharing this incredible moment with him.  She nodded, biting her lower lip and feeling like she just might burst.  “What about that one?” Oliver asked, pointing behind him to the fourth tomb.  “It has a gold mask too.”

How could she have forgotten? Felicity may have squeaked as she spun to get a look at the one behind her.  She kept forgetting there was more.  It was like she couldn’t imagine  _more_.   

Felicity’s hand immediately reached to touch the second gold mask.  “There’s no moonstone eyes in this one and these features are more typically Mayan,” she thought out loud, taking in the glyphs around the edge.  There weren’t as many, but they were there.

“His wife?” Oliver suggested.

“You think?”  Felicity’s eyes jerked up, trying to ignore that he sort of had her trapped in the tiny space between the tombs and the wall.  There was no way out unless Oliver got out of the way. 

Of course,  _that_  didn’t make her panicky.  An almost kiss had but not being trapped.  Felicity’s brain was so illogical sometimes. 

Oliver leaned over to get a better look at this fourth corpse, showing no awareness of the extremely tight quarters (or at least no reaction).  “The features do seem a little more feminine, but it’s hard tell.” 

Whoever it was, she had an awful lot of jewelry, tarnished with time but unmistakably valuable, and her hands were also splayed out in the same butterfly/sun pattern.

“It looks like she’s holding something,” Oliver said, reaching in and grabbing her shriveled hand.  “Tangled between her fingers.”

“ _Ewww_!  What are you doing?” Felicity gasped, recoiling and trying to back up…but, hello, no place to back up to.  Oh how could Oliver _touch_  it?  Yuck yuck yuck! 

But Oliver just chuckled.  “I’m seeing what she’s holding.  Considering our line of work, you’d think you’d be over your squeamishness by now.”

Felicity grunted, determined not to take the bait.  Honestly, she didn’t think she’d ever be over it.  There was a reason she had a forensic expert on her team.  She preferred wires and metal to _dead things_.  “Just be careful, don’t…break her.”  She shuddered just thinking about it.

“I don’t think she’ll notice,” Oliver quipped, throwing Felicity a crooked smile as he pulled something out from between the Mayan’s thumbs.  “Will you look at that?”

At the awe in Oliver’s voice Felicity looked ever and…

“Oh _wow_ …”

It was a moonstone.  Felicity scooped it out of Oliver’s hand and held it out in front of her.  Maybe an inch in diameter, it was intricately and  _perfectly,_  carved and decorated with…silver, it looked like.  She didn’t even think craftsmanship like this existed that many years ago. 

“You think it's a sun?  Or a star? Wow…I’ve never seen anything like it.”  Felicity rolled it around in her palm.  It was gorgeous.  It was… _warm_.

“Do you think that it’s the moonstone that’s shown around the queen’s neck?” Oliver asked and Felicity’s eyes flew back to the carving.  She hadn’t considered it.  It was an incredible connection to make.

“ _Well_ …if it is then the necklace isn’t the Gift,” Felicity answered after a moment.

“How can you be sure?” 

Felicity had meet his eyes to see if Oliver was joking.  Incredibly, he wasn’t.  She held the stone out between her thumb and forefinger.  “ _This_  is the greatest magical object ever created?”  It was pretty and all, but…

Oliver shrugged.  “It was greatly exaggerated?”  That made Felicity chuckle, but his eyes got serious again and he asked softly, “You know what else this means?”

Wrinkling her forehead, Felicity looked at him and shook her head.

“It’s just like in your dream,” Oliver murmured, gesturing between the two tombs.  “Cadmeal and his wife.  They were your dancers?”

Felicity’s breath hissed and a chill ran through her.  Cadmeal, his wife, and the tombs. 

That was her dream all right.  “Are you saying I’m psychic?” Felicity tried to joke.  But it didn’t feel like a joke.

Oliver smiled anyway.  “No, I…I think you have a connection to this place.”  He looked around the chamber and when he turned back to Felicity she must have been giving him a disbelieving look because he said, “What?  I’ve seen things that can’t be explained by science.  You know that.  There are things out there beyond our understanding, Felicity.   _Mystical_  things.”

How did she even begin to respond to that?  Felicity opened her mouth to try—

A loud beeping sounded in her ear and Felicity snapped her fingers shut around the stone, flipping over her wrist to look at her flashing watch.  Oliver’s was flashing too. 

They shared a quick look before they both reached for their wrists.  But the communicator in her ear crackled to life, and the emergency line went live before Felicity had a chance to pull up the controls.

Digg’s voice echoed in Felicity’s ear.  “ _Green Arrow.  Overwatch.  Report.  Alpha Delta Four, Report!”_

There was gunfire in the distance.

Felicity’s eyes jerked to Oliver’s.  Frak.  They were under attack.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167326566259/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-9))
> 
> It is true that many scholars believe that the Vikings made it to the Americas long before Columbus, but since they had no interest in gold or anything else there, they moved on.  There were not, however (as far as I know), any sign of blue-eyed blonde Mayans.   Though, they did believe their ruler descended from the gods, some of whom live in the sky (others deep in the underworld).
> 
> These last two chapters have been a whole lot of plot, maybe more than I’ve ever written, so I hope you’re holding in there with me.  I’ve got a lot of balls up in the air with this one and trying really hard not to drop any.  And it’s not going to get any easier.  Action ahead!  (God help me.)
> 
> Thank you so much to the lovelies:  **Ireland1733, imusuallyobsessed, and Fairytalehearts**  for all their help and support.  This story is an epic tangle and it takes a village for me to keep it all straight. 
> 
> Thank you to each and everyone one of you who left me a comment about chapter 8.  It means so much to me.  Please, keep them coming (and don’t forget to press that kudos button if you liked it. ;-))
> 
> Thanks, and Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
>  


	11. Chapter 10: Palenque Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Previously on...chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/157160288280/previously-on) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 17, 2016_  
_09:51_  
_Palenque, Mexico_

 

“ _Green Arrow.  Overwatch.  Report.  Alpha Delta Four, Report!”_

Immediately, Oliver drew himself up, making all the subtle changes that transformed him from just Oliver into Green Arrow, Operations Specialist of ARGUS, the most elite intelligence organization in the world.  He pressed the necessary button on his watch, turning on the outbound comms, saying strong and clear, “Green Arrow reporting.  I have Overwatch.” He caught Felicity’s eyes and held them as they waited for a response.

John’s sighed audibly, his relief evident over the airwaves.  “ _Thank_ god _.  I swear, if you two snuck off for some romantic tet a_ —”

Felicity frantically turned on her comm as well.  Suddenly  _very_  aware she was in a tiny little space, boxed in by Oliver’s large body.  Hitting her watch almost violently, she blurted out, “We’re in the Temple of the Sun.  I had this idea—”

“ _Are you secure_?” John interrupted, his voice hard.  And, frak, that was ominous. 

Oliver’s jaw hardened.  The look he gave Felicity conveyed just how much he agreed with her.  “As far as we can tell.” 

Given they were in a hole in the ground with absolutely no visibility of the outside world.

They could be surrounded for all they knew.  Another reason coming down here alone was stupid as frak.  What had Felicity been thinking?  What had  _Oliver_  been thinking?

More gunfire rang out.  A virtual shower of gunfire.  Louder this time and ending in a small explosion.  The comms crackled.

“ _There’s a dozen operatives at the northwest entrance_.”  That was Roy’s voice. 

“ _Deathstroke_?” And that was Sara’s… _Assassin_ Sara’s voice, to be precise.

Immediately, Slade responded, “ _Got it_.”  And then there were several clear loud shots.

Felicity reached out and grabbed Oliver’s arm, too freaked out to even consider that touching might be a problem.  In fact, the closeness was incredibly comforting.  Their relationship issues paled against…oh god, their friends were getting shot at. 

Felicity had known this would probably…no, she’d known that eventually this _would_ be their reality. That HIVE was going to show up and when they did, it wasn’t going to be for a friendly chat.  This was part of the mission, but…Felicity hadn’t heard gunfire since Tikal and with each shot she shuddered.  She knew intimately what a bullet felt like hitting her body…and she hated the idea of her friends anywhere near them.

Crap, what kind of agent was she?  Felicity should hang up her shield right now. 

“ _Green Arrow, listened closely,”_  John came across loud and clear. _“Initiate Plan Zeta.  Do you copy_?”

Plan Zeta?  What the hell was Plan Zeta?  Shouldn’t she know?  Felicity felt like this was something she should be in on.  Didn’t anyone tell her anything anymore? Then she heard another shot and her knees started to buckle. 

Right.   _That_  was why no one told her anything. 

Oliver blew out a breath.  “Copy, Spartan.  Zeta initiated.”  And the scariest part was how resigned Oliver sounded, how blank his stare was.

Felicity covered her comm with her hand and looked up at Oliver, demanding, “What’s Plan Zeta?” 

She was panicking.  The real kind of panicking, where there was something  _real_  to actually panic  _over_ , not the kind Felicity was used to, where she panicked over something her brain had made up.  She hadn’t realized there was a difference until now.

Oliver’s eyes found hers and they looked anything but blank as he whispered, “I’m getting you out of here.”

What?  That didn’t…then Felicity remembered the exchange between Oliver and Digg in the War Room at the ARGUS safe house.  Plan Zeta was for Oliver to get Felicity to the Door at all costs. 

Well… _fuck_.  What the hell was going on out there that they were ready to trigger  _that_  plan?

“But…” They couldn’t leave without finding the key.  Metaphorical as it probably was.  They were so close.  Felicity uncovered her comm, saying louder, “Spartan, we found something—”

“ _No time for that, Overwatch.  Grab what you can and evacuate ASAP_.”

Before Felicity could protest further, she heard Curtis’ voice ring out, “ _Spartan, I’m detecting heavily armed transports approaching from the south_.”

Oh god.

Oliver placed a hand on Felicity’s back, grounding her.  “Mr. Terrific, is the Temple of the Sun clear?” he asked, because apparently their fish in a barrel situation hadn’t escaped him either.

“ _As far as I can tell, Green Arrow_.”

But before Oliver could respond, Digg cut in, “ _Engineering_ ,  _contact Alpha Base.  Green Arrow, we can’t let them find…_ ”

Oliver answered with a decisive nod, which was silly because Felicity was the only one who could see it and she wasn’t even sure what the hell he was agreeing to.  “Understood, sir.”

“ _Good_.”  Digg lowered his voice, “ _Overwatch, Green Arrow is now your CO.  Good luck_.”

It was a dismissal.  And ominous as all  _frak_.  Felicity’s heart was already pounding in her ears and she was starting to sweat and not because it was hot in there, though the heat was certainly rising.  Or was that just the panic too?

“ _Arsenal. Canary_ —”

Oliver reached over and shut down Felicity’s comm before she could hear the next words out of Digg’s mouth.  “We have to go,” Oliver told her in a tone that brooked no arguments. 

Felicity _knew_ that.  It was just…she looked around helplessly.  The team…how could they leave the _team_. 

And they were so close to something really important here.  Felicity could feel it.  “But…”  Yet, she didn’t have a follow up to that ‘but.’  Her usually quick mind seemed to have run into a road block.  They couldn’t go to the Door without a way…an  _idea_  of how to get in. 

Yet, if HIVE found them still in this hole, they would have no way to defend themselves.  Oliver didn’t have enough arrows.  There weren’t enough tranqs.  They’d be trapped.  What good was a key if they never got to the Door?  And what good was a door without a key?  Felicity’s brain was stuck in a catch 22.

Staring at the slab on the ground and frowning, Oliver shook his head and let out a frustrated grunt.  At least, he seemed to be fully aware of their dilemma.  He slid out from between the tombs, his hand curving around Felicity’s elbow and he dragged her clumsy feet behind him. 

“You need to take pictures of everything.  _Quickly_!  Get your tablet and _go_!”

Thank god Oliver still knew how to be an agent, because Felicity…she still didn’t seem to have the ability to move on her own.  They were told not to do that.  They… 

“What about the digital—”

“We have no  _choice_.”  Oliver dropped her elbow and snatched up his duffle bag, pulling out his bow and quiver. 

Right.  That’s where they were at.  No choice.  Getting armed.  Gathering what they could bring with them.  Escaping. 

Okay.  Time to move.

Felicity needed to focus here.  Find the Field Agent deep inside.  If she didn’t get moving, she was going to get someone killed.  Probably Oliver and…

It was that thought that finally got Felicity going.  Internally, she was still freaking out, but her body went into autopilot.  She had her tablet in hand in seconds, shutting down all the satellite uplinks so the pictures couldn’t be traced by  _anyone_ …not ARGUS, not Hive, no one.  

Then Felicity was on her knees in front of the slab, roughly sweeping dust away and trying to get as many pictures and angles as she could, as quickly as she could.  It wouldn’t be as good as studying it in real life, but it would have to do.  

They had to get to Kin Cuudad before HIVE.  Felicity had no doubt it was real now and…Darhk just couldn’t get there first.  This couldn’t be another Reiter, another Tikal.  She couldn’t make the same mistake and get there too slow.  She had to do it right this time.

Everyone was counting on her.  Her friends.  Her  _family_.  They were being ambushed as she sat here taking pictures.  Maybe lying wounded, bleeding to death, while she worried about dust and camera angles. 

Without even thinking, Felicity reached to turn her comms back on.  She needed to know what was happening.  She…

But Oliver grabbed her wrist so quickly Felicity startled, protesting, “But the others…”  She _needed_ to know they were okay.

Oliver’s face was sympathetic, but uncompromising.  “It will distract you.  We need to  _move_ , Felicity.”

Swallowing, all she could do was nod.  Oliver was already up and leaning over Cadmeal’s tomb before Felicity could decide what to photograph next.  He was right.  Of _course_ , he was right.  How had he come away from the same trauma as she had an even  _better_  agent, while she became a scattered mess.

Then she saw Oliver lift off Cadmeal’s gold mask and she gasped, crying out, “What are you  _doing_?”  Her brain might not be working nearly as well as it should, but that was… _desecration_!

A brief, guilt-ridden look passed over Oliver’s face, but he never paused in his work.  “Taking everything with us we can carry.  We don’t want anything important falling into HIVE’s hands.”

And they had no idea what was important and what wasn’t.

“Right,” Felicity muttered.  Of course.  Except it seemed so  _wrong_  to disturb anything here.

But not as wrong as any of it falling into HIVE hands.   If only she had thought of opening the tombs yesterday…

The moonstone.

It was still, crazily enough, clutched in her hand.  She’d been holding it like a talisman, but now Felicity moved to push it deep into one of the pockets of her loose cargo shorts, snapping it securely inside.  Strangely,  _that_  didn’t feel wrong to take.  She actually felt better once it was secured in her pocket.

Felicity turned back to take a few more pictures, before moving on to the inside of the tombs with an increased determination.  She told herself that they weren’t desecrating this undoubtedly sacred site, they were salvaging what they could.  Like Dolly Madison protecting the White House treasures from the British soldiers or sneaking away precious artwork ahead of the Nazis.  This was war, as surely as that was.  Smaller, quieter, secret- _er_.  But war just the same.

Then she heard a snap and her eyes jerked up to see Oliver pull a ring from Cadmeal’s wife’s (they guessed) hand.  Felicity shuddered but didn’t protest this time.  It had to be done and a selfish part of her was glad that Oliver was here to do it, because she didn’t know if she could.  Though she didn’t think she would ever forget the sound of that finger snapping.

It didn’t seem like a full minute later before Oliver asked, “Ready?”

“No, I…” Felicity moved more quickly, skirting around the tombs, taking as many pictures as she could.

“ _Fel-ic-i-ty_ …this has to be enough.” 

And it was Oliver’s tone, pleading, yet firm, that almost broke her.  She needed to follow his lead.  He was the only one of the two of them who was able to think clearly.

“I know.  Just…”  Felicity took a few more photos.  As quickly as she possibly could.  The last ones weren’t very good, but they would have to be good _enough_. 

Good enough.  Please,  _god_ , let them be good enough.  Felicity couldn’t handle being the reason for another failure. 

Oliver handed her her backpack and Felicity quickly slipped the tablet inside and swung it onto her back.  It was time to leave. 

Oh god…it was time _to leave_.

With Oliver.

To go to the Door ahead of the team.

Alone.  With Oliver.

With HIVE hot on their heels.

It was…Felicity didn’t even know how to process it all.

“Here.”  Oliver took out a tranq (AKA poison) gun and flipped on the safety, pushing it into the waistband of her shorts, which was really pushing their personal boundaries, but…

god, what was Felicity thinking?  This was life and death!  There were no personal boundaries!  Personal boundaries got people killed! 

Besides, Oliver was all business when he said, “I’m going to hoist you up.  I want you to immediately find the back corner of the temple and wait for me.  Shoot—”

Whoa!  Hold on there…

“Wait!  Where will _you_ be?” 

Why would they need to be separated?  There was no need to be separated.  No.  Just  _no_.  The idea of being alone with Oliver may be nerve-racking, but the idea of being  _separated_  from Oliver… _that_ was terrifying.  For five  _gazillion_  reasons.

"Right behind you,” Oliver assured and Felicity forced herself to breathe.  To tell herself she was over-reacting.  To stop acting like a trauma victim and start acting like an ARGUS Field Agent.  “But things happen fast.” And didn’t she know it.  “Shoot anyone who approaches you.”

“Anyone but you,” Felicity clarified, completely unnecessarily.  Because,  _obviously_ , she wasn’t going to shoot him, but she felt the need to remind Oliver that he was going to be approaching her.  _Soon_.  Without delay.  Because she was  _not_  doing this without him.

It made Oliver smile, so that was something at least.  “Anyone but me,” he agreed.  “They will probably be wearing Kevlar, so I want you to aim for the neck, hands, and lower legs.  Don’t be afraid to shoot multiple times.  Preserving HIVE life—”

“Is not our objective,” Felicity finished, swallowing.  She hated killing, but…she’d make an exception in this case.  “Got it.”  

Oliver leaned down and cupped his hands, but still Felicity hesitated. 

He was going to be right behind her, wasn’t he?  Why was Felicity dithering like an idiot?  Why did it feel…why was the idea of going up without Oliver so much more terrifying?  There was no other way.  It wasn’t like he could go first and she could hoist  _herself_  out.  This was stupid. 

Desperately, Felicity grabbed his biceps and…there was so much she wanted to say.  There was _no time_.  

“Hurry!”  That one word had to say it all.

And maybe, it did.  Because Oliver swallowed and, grabbing her elbows, he pressed a quick hard kiss to Felicity’s forehead.  It was amazing how much it calmed her. Then leaning down again, he ordered, “Go!”

So she went. 

Felicity put her foot in Oliver’s cupped palms and her hands on his shoulders.  She took a deep breath and allowed him to push her up and out of the chamber.  He was much stronger than Curtis and she practically flew out of the hole. 

Felicity scrambled onto the floor of the temple, half expecting it to be swarming with HIVE Agents already.  But there was nothing.  In fact, it was eerily quiet.  She didn’t stop to contemplate that fact, just did as Oliver told her to and found the back wall of the temple, behind the angled walls, so she could see out but she wouldn’t be spotted.  Not easily, anyway.

A part of her kept hoping Oliver would appear so quickly none of this would be necessary.  But he didn’t and Felicity could only guess he was gathering the rest of the gear, because the arrow and rope he used to get down was intact. 

Felicity’s hands didn’t tremble  _too badly_  when she pulled her tranq gun out and turned off the safety.  She waited, telling herself Oliver would be there soon. 

Time always seemed to move at a snail’s pace in battle.  Every microsecond counted. It was difficult to judge how much time passed.  It was so hard to believe that once this had been routine.

Then Felicity heard an explosion in the distance.  And with nothing to do but sit…

And wait…

And think…

Felicity started to tremble. 

Terrible scenarios ran through her head as she imagined the explosions catching her friends as they stood. 

Had HIVE targeted the walls around the Ballcourt, sending the thick limestone tumbling on top of them?  Was the spot of their campfire a crater now?  How many had been hit?  Were _any_ of them still alive?

Felicity couldn’t stand it any longer.  She switched on her comm and, biting her lip until she tasted blood, she listened.

Immediately Cait’s clear, but desperate, voice was in Felicity’s ear, “ _Alpha Base, where is that medevac?  Arsenal needs out yesterday_!”

Her hand flying to her mouth, Felicity pushed back a gasp, even though she hadn’t turned on the outgoing comms, so they wouldn’t be able to hear her.  She tried not to flinch as she heard more gunfire, unable to tell if it was coming from outside the temple or over the comms. 

But at least they weren’t dead.  If Felicity could hear their voices…if Roy still needed transport…poor sweet  _young_  puppy…then there was still a chance they could all be okay.

“ _I’m fine.”_   It was a deep pained grunt that Felicity assumed belonged to Roy and she was exceedingly relieved just to hear him awake and talking. 

It couldn’t be that bad if he was talking, right?  God, what would Oliver do if something happened to Roy?  Especially when Oliver wasn’t there to help?  Felicity was certain he felt responsible for the younger agent. 

It wasn’t fair.  None of them deserved this.

“ _You are_ not _fine_!”

Felicity recognized the fear in Caitlin’s voice.  This must be terrifying for her.  She must be freaking out as much as Felicity was.  Worse, since she was in the middle of it and Felicity was ( _currently_ ) safely hidden in the temple.  What right did  _she_  have to stay hidden away?   

“ _Now lie back and be quiet!  You’re bleeding everywhere.  Alpha base_?”

" _The first wave’s ETA is five minutes out, but the medevac…well, it’s holding back, Killer Frost_.” That was Cisco’s voice and Felicity knew it well enough to know the news wasn’t good.  His hesitation was clear.

“ _You need to do better_!” Caitlin’s voice had that ice-cold edge that earned her the (almost silly) handle, Killer Frost, in Academy.  It was started as an insult from a childish and bitter suitor, but Cait had come to own it.

Lyla’s voice rang out, saving Cisco from Caitlin’s wrath, “ _We can’t bring our surgeon into the middle of a battle field, Frost_.”

Slade’s, “ _Hell no_!” was almost immediate.

Caitlin growled in response, though Felicity knew Cait didn’t want to put Shado in danger any more than anyone else, but Roy was under her care and if she felt like there was nothing left for her to do without back-up…Felicity could only imagine that she must be reliving the last time she was in the Yucatán, waiting for medevac, trying to stem her friends’ bleeding.  Her husband newly cold.   

“ _If Arsenal dies, Deathstroke…”_

“ _The kid’s strong_ ,” Slade’s gruff voice cut in, followed by two loud shots from a rifle, probably his.

“ _Fuck yeah_ ,” the kid in question agreed and Felicity managed a teary smile. 

When had she started to cry?

Digg cut off the chatter, stating, “ _Our primary objective, at this point in time, is to maintain the fighting in the north-east corner away from Team Zeta.  Deathstroke, Canary, Mr. T, you_ —”

“ _Terrific_ ,” Curtis corrected.  “It’s  _Mr. Terrific_.”

Digg swore under his breath, muttering, “ _Stupid-ass handle.”_ Felicity could almost see him roll his eyes _.  “You three head east as soon as backup arrives, drawing as many as you can away from Team Zeta.  Then we will work to contain the rest and evac Arsenal.”_

“ _But—_ ”

“ _That’s an_ order _, Killer Frost.  No one leaves position until Team Zeta is away_.” It was the tone no one dared argue with.  Digg was done with the peanut gallery.

But  _still_ , Caitlin asked, “ _Well, what the hell is keeping Team Zeta_?” Felicity couldn’t help but feel Caitlin's frustrated outburst was out of concern not only for Roy, but Felicity and Oliver as well.  “ _Why aren’t they away yet_?”

And Felicity felt horribly selfish.   She was just sitting there, listening without reassuring anyone that they were okay. 

_Were_ they okay?  Where the frak was Oliver?  What could he  _possibly_  be doing for all this time?  Nothing could have happened down there, could it?  Felicity would have seen if someone, or  _something_ , had entered that hole.

Cisco seemed to pick up on burgeoning hysteria in Cait’s voice and tried to reassure, _“I still have them located at the Temple of the Sun.”_

“ _Why are they still there?”_ Still Cait. _“Are they under attack_?” 

“We’re—” Felicity answered, forgetting for half a second that her comm was off.  Oliver would want her to keep it off, but shouldn’t she at least reassure them?  What harm could that possibly do?  Caitlin had enough to worry about.  Felicity couldn’t add to it.

“ _No_.” Cisco answered Caitlin’s question since Felicity was still froze in pathetic indecision. “ _Not that I can detect.”_

Felicity fumbled with her watch.  She needed to at  _least_ tell them they were okay.  Poor Cait.  Felicity had promised to be there for her and now…now her hands were  _really_  shaking.  By the time she found the watch controls—

An explosion roared, rocking the temple.  Felicity stumbled, bracing herself against the wall and crouching into the corner, covering her head with her arms, tranq gun still clutched in a death grip.  Smoke billowed around her, filling every nook of the temple and clouding her vision.  The limestone creaked and the walls shook.

And,  _instantly_ , Felicity was back in Tikal.

Crumbling pillars…

Walls falling with a massive crash.  Debris scattering…

Lyla, Sara…trapped…

So much blood…

Felicity could  _feel_  the blood.  Sticky and warm on her hands…

The air smelled of acid and soot and smoke.  Rocks flew everywhere…

It was hard to breathe from the billow of dust…and smoke…

It was everywhere.  Felicity couldn’t see.  It stung her eyes and burned.

There was screaming and darkness and ringing in her ears.  Everything was crumbling around her. 

Gun shots ricocheted and more walls fell.  An avalanche of limestone.  They were going to be buried alive.  Those of them who were  _still_  alive…

Who was still alive?

Oliver!

_Where_ was Oliver?

There was pain and death…and the smell of fire…

The glare of red lightning…

Oliver…no…no…no…no…

“No,” Felicity whimpered, clutching her stomach as phantom pains knotted deep in her abdomen and she found it hard to breathe.  She rocked as the pain got worse and, yet, she felt  _so_  empty.  “The baby…no…no…no…”

“Felicity!   _Felicity_!”

Oliver kept saying her name.  Where was he?  She couldn’t see him through the haze.  Was he hurt?  Was _she_ hurt?  He sounded so close…why couldn’t she reach him?  Felicity couldn’t even call for him.  She couldn’t  _move_. 

Everything was dark and she was paralyzed and the ringing in her ears was getting worse.  The  _smell_ —

Then Oliver’s rough his hands were on her cheeks and Felicity jerked.  He was there!  She couldn’t see him, but he was  _right there._   Why couldn’t she get to him?  She tried to shake this.  To move…but she couldn’t.  She…

Oliver’s lips pressed to hers.

Felicity’s eyes flew open.

It wasn’t dark.  She had just closed her eyes.  Felicity didn’t remember closing her eyes.  When had she done that?   _Why_  had she done that?

It was day and, yes, there was smoke and it was cloudy, hazy even…but Felicity…

She wasn’t in Tikal.  She was in Palenque. They weren’t underground.  They were under attack, but she wasn’t hurt.  Oliver wasn’t hurt.  At least, Felicity didn’t  _think_  he was hurt.   He was kissing her, so how hurt could he be…

Oh, dear god!  Oliver was  _kissing her_. 

Okay, this couldn’t be real.  It had to be…

But then, Oliver pulled back.   Still so close, but…his hands were still cupping Felicity’s head, his fingers surrounding her, grounding her, keeping her safe…but his lips were no longer on hers. 

Somehow, Felicity managed to meet his eyes as Oliver asked, “You with me?”

Her ears were still ringing, but Felicity could hear Oliver’s words clearly.  Then she realized what had really happened. 

Felicity had had a flashback.  Possibly the most intense flashback she had ever had, but not the longest, because…because…Oliver had _kissed_ her.

Oliver had kissed her to pull her out of a flashback. 

And it had worked.   _Thank god_.  Though it left Felicity feeling pathetic and… _sad_. 

She was so damaged she couldn’t get through 10 minutes of a battle, _from a distance,_ without becoming so completely incapacitated that Oliver had to…had to…

And now  _that_  was their first kiss.  After all this time.  Five years.  And their first, and maybe  _only_  kiss, was to slap her back to reality? 

Felicity tried to hold on to the feeling of Oliver’s lips on hers, but she hadn’t had time to appreciate it, never mind kiss him back.  Would he be upset that she hadn’t kissed him back?  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to…she…

What the hell was wrong with her?  This was  _not_  what she should be thinking about right now! 

Their friends were being ambushed.  Some of them already lie dying and Felicity was cowering in a corner, lamenting a kiss.  She knew they never should have let her back in the field.

Felicity shook herself. “What happened?” Oliver’s hands were still cupping her skull and she should pull away, but instead she clutched his wrists like a lifeline.

“You were having a flashback,” Oliver whispered, but  _that_  she knew.

“I thought…I thought there was an explosion,” Felicity murmured, feeling disoriented and hating every second of it.  She wasn’t going to survive this if she couldn’t snap out of it. 

Had there really  _not_  been an explosion?  If there wasn’t, that was one hell of a trick her mind played on her.   A whole new level of crazy.

But Oliver pulled back, saying, “There was.” His shoulders drooped as Felicity struggled to grasp what he was trying to tell her.  “I’m sorry.”  Taking her hand, he pulled her up with him as he stood.  “I had to blow up the tombs.”

If Oliver hadn’t caught her, Felicity would have fallen right back down again.  “ _What_?!”

No.  Felicity shook her head.   _No_.  Oliver couldn’t have…

But the look on his face said he  _had_.  Oliver had blown up…their discoveries…the key… thousands of years…

Felicity lurched forward.  She needed to see for herself.  Surely, Oliver hadn’t destroyed  _everything_.  Surely, there was  _something_  she could salvage…

But he caught her around the waist, holding her back.  “I’m sorry,” Oliver repeated, murmuring it into Felicity’s ear, restraining her and comforting her at the same time.  “I… _we_  couldn’t let HIVE get their hands on that slab or anything else down there.”

As Oliver said this, Digg’s words about making sure there was nothing for HIVE to find echoed in her head.  Felicity had thought that he meant  _her_ , but…clearly not.  If she had known…was there anything she could, or _would_ , have done differently?

“Oliver…” Felicity whimpered, feeling like crying as she saw the smoke billowing out of the hole.  “Those were over 2000 years old.  Priceless.” 

If they were even real.  She had planned to have samples sent to the Cave for analysis, for dating, but now…now they’d never know if any of it was even real. 

“I know,” Oliver murmured softly, apologetically, his hand clenching at Felicity’s waist.  She wasn’t sure if his regret made her feel better or worse. 

Then Felicity smelled smoke, again, and…dear  _god,_  it was coming from Oliver.  She wrenched herself around to look him over.  “Did you blow it up while you were  _in_  there?” And her voice was edging on hysterical here.

“I had no choice,” Oliver whispered.

The stupid…idiotic… _moron_  said there was  _no choice_.  To set a bomb, in a hole, while he was  _in there_. 

There was only one response that Felicity felt appropriate.  She hit Oliver on the shoulder just about as hard as she could.  “You did have a  _choice_ , you jackass!  You could have come up here and shot—”

“Felicity,” he sighed and now that she was really looking at him, Felicity could see that Oliver was covered in soot.  He could have  _died_.  Then what would she have done?  “We don’t have time to stand here and argue.”

He was right.  They needed to get out of there.  And if Felicity really let herself think about how close Oliver had come to dying down there…she wasn’t going to be able to do  _anything_.  To move even.

Felicity drew herself up and looked him in the eyes, “When we are done here, you and I are going to have words.  That was just…too unnecessarily stupid, Oliver.”

Oliver smiled, but before he could say anything else Felicity’s attention was drawn back to the voices over the comms. 

“ _Canary, on your left_!” Curtis screamed, loud enough to make Felicity jerk.

Oliver grabbed her wrist, demanding, “Do you have your comms on?”

Felicity yanked it back, not out of his grip (the idiot was far too strong for her) but enough to keep Oliver from turning it off.  “No.  Wait, Roy…”

_That_  made Oliver freeze, his voice lowering to soft murmur, his eyes drilling into hers, “What about Roy?”

Maybe Felicity shouldn’t have said anything.  It wasn’t as if there was anything they could do for Roy from here.  The pain and fear lurking behind Oliver’s hard glare was almost too much to bear, but she needed…they  _both_  needed to know Roy was okay.  “He was hit.  I need to—”

“Was it fatal?” Oliver demanded and his words were so hard Felicity flinched.  Oh god, what would it do to Oliver if Roy died?  After Ronnie…. “Felicity, was it  _fatal_?”

Frantically, she shook her head.  “No, not…”  Felicity wished she could reassure him more than that, but that was all she had.  “I don’t know how bad it is, but I heard his voice, so it can’t…Caitlin was really worr—”

Oliver pulled Felicity’s wrist back to him and clicked off the comm.  “You can check on the team later.  Right now, the best thing we can do for Roy, for  _all_  of them, is to get the hell out of here.”

Did Oliver know that the rest of the team wasn’t allowed to leave until they were gone?  Oh frak…Digg said they were  _waiting_  for them to be away!  Felicity was standing here, arguing with Oliver while Roy was bleeding out, waiting for a medevac that wasn’t even allowed to come near Palenque until her and Oliver were to safety…wherever the hell  _that_  was.

Frak, she was a train-wreck.  Roy could die because Felicity was ignoring orders and freaking out in the corner.

Taking her by the shoulders, Oliver bent down so he could look directly into her eyes.  God, he was close.  “Felicity, I really need you with me here.”

All Felicity could do was nod.  It was time to get her big girl pants on.  It really wasn’t fair that she was making Oliver carry all the weight.  Besides the fact that he had as much baggage as she did, look what happened when she played the damsel in distress.  He had almost blown himself up.  She tasted a dusty tear and wondered how long  _that_  had been going on.

But, apparently, a nod wasn’t enough for Oliver and he demanded, “Do you know who I need?”

It made her feel like a child, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve to be treated as such.  Blowing out a breath, Felicity answered, “Overwatch?”  It wasn’t nearly as certain as she would have liked.   

"Overwatch,” Oliver repeated, because they both knew Felicity needed to stop acting like a green agent, or  _worse_ , a hysterical civilian, and work  _with_  him to achieve their directive.  Their friends and the goddamn  _world_ was counting on it. 

“With a little bit of Sunshine thrown in,” Oliver added with a grin and, somehow, that made Felicity smile.  Which was as close to a miracle as she got these days.  “Can you do that for me?”

Drawing herself up and clearing her throat, Felicity said louder this time, “I can try.”  Unfortunately, that was the best she could promise.  And she was  _done_  lying to him.

“That’ll do.” Oliver straightened up and squared his shoulders, switching back to Green Arrow mode. “I’m going to need you to use those glasses of yours and tell me if we have a clear shot to the Temple of the Inscriptions.  Can you do that?”

Felicity nodded, already feeling better with a task she could confidently complete.  Part of her even wanted to roll her eyes and snap, ‘Of course,’ because Oliver was literally asking her to  _look_  across the park and tell him what she saw, not exactly the most challenging task.  But considering that she had just been acting like a mental patient, she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

Adjusting the glasses to binocular mode, Felicity stepped out in front of Oliver, but he stopped her with an arm around her waist.  “Stay behind me or a column.  I want you exposed as little as possible.”

Felicity threw him a look.   _As if_  she were going to use him as a human shield.  Not even at her most freaked out.  “I choose the column.” 

She could hear Oliver chuckling behind her, but mostly ignored it as she easily found a good spot to look out.  One thing Felicity had going for her was she knew this temple like the back of her hand.  It was easy to find a concealed spot with a good view of the much larger Temple of the Inscriptions. 

The view was peaceful, not a person in sight, as deceptively quiet as the rainforest just beyond.  But the sound of gunfire pulled her eyes back north-west and…

Felicity gasped out loud.  “Oliver,  _frak_.  There's got to be a hundred of them… _more_.” 

How the hell had that many operatives been able to be assembled, unnoticed, in this part of Mexico?  HIVE had them outnumbered almost twenty to one.  It made Felicity lightheaded just thinking about it. 

“By the Temple?” Oliver demanded, his voice as hard and as panicked as Felicity had ever heard it.

He tried to brush past her, but Felicity grabbed a fist full of Oliver’s shirt to keep him from stepping into the open.   _Moron_.  “It looks like they are concentrated in the north-west, by the Ballcourt and the Plaza, on the other side of the Palace.”

“But can we get to the  _Temple of the Inscriptions_ without being seen?” Oliver sounded frantic now, though he was smart enough to step back into the shadows.  His body was positively vibrating with the energy it took to restrain himself.  He was hating that Felicity was between him and danger and she knew it. 

But Felicity, she liked it just fine. 

Swinging her eyes back to the spot Oliver was talking about, Felicity took a deep breath and assessed the situation.  “Maybe.  If we move quickly.”

“And the entrance to  _this_  temple is clear?” Oliver repeated and Felicity was starting to realize how anxious he actually was.  She didn’t think anyone else would see anything but an in-control Field Agent.  But she saw the truth.  Funny, how somethings you could never u _n_ known.

“Yeah.”  As clear as it could be with a full-on war raging at the other end of the park.

No quicker had she said it, then Oliver yanked her out of the way.  He stepped up and pulled out his bow.  Felicity quickly turned her glasses back to normal sight mode, fast enough to see him aim and pull back an arrow.

And now was really not the time, like really  _really_  not the time, but it was hard not to admire the sight.  It was possibly Felicity’s all-time favorite thing to look at, it was so fraking hot, and it had been a  _really_  long time...

The arrow flew, carrying a thick wire, making a whirring noise as it sailed across the pavilion and lodged itself firmly high in the side of the Temple of the Inscriptions.

Oliver pulled the wire taught and wrapped the other end around the column Felicity had just hidden behind, knotting it with a practiced efficiency.  “Put your backpack on your front,” he instructed.

Felicity was already moving, she knew this drill.  It was amazing how well she remembered it, actually.  She secured her bag as he threw his duffle over his shoulder, crisscrossing it with his quiver, and latching the bow over the wire.  He yanked firmly to make sure it was secure, before turning to Felicity, his arm out to her, asking, “You remember—?”

“Yup.”  Because how could she not?  It was muscle memory.  Not something easily, or _ever_ , forgotten, but she was surprised at how  _not_  freaked out she was as she went through this well-rehearsed dance with Oliver.  Felicity just wiped her hands on her shorts and stepped up to grab the bow on either side of the wire. 

It was starting to rain again.  Just a light drizzle at the moment but picking up.  Not the best conditions to go make-shift ziplining without a helmet or harness, but they had done far more dangerous things.  And maybe the rain would slow down HIVE.  Anything to get them out of there quickly and help the rest of the team.   

Oliver’s strong arm slid around Felicity’s waist and dragged her back to press full length against his body.  It was necessary.  Of course, it was.  They couldn’t exactly do this and maintain a personal bubble, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a shock to her system.  Of arousal.  Of comfort.  Of discomfort.  Feeling him pressed against her for the first time in years, it couldn’t  _not_  set her whole-body tingling. 

Even if it was the absolute worst timing it the _entire history of the world_.  Story of Felicity’s life.

Then there was Oliver’s voice in her ear, husky and warm, “Here we go.”  Not a question.  A statement.  He kicked off and they were flying through to air and Felicity had to bite her already ravaged lip to keep from screaming.

It wasn’t that it was an unpleasant sensation.  It was quite thrilling, actually.  Fun, even…when they weren’t running for their lives while their friends were being ambushed by the evilest of all the evil conglomerates.  But Felicity was a screaming on a rollercoasters kind of girl and flying thirty feet above the ground, with nothing but her grip on the bow and Oliver’s around her waist to keep her from plummeting to the ground warranted at least a few sounds of distress.

But a wayward sound could cause disaster and Felicity was a trained ARGUS Field Agent.  Or so she reminded herself.  For maybe the _dozenth_ time in the past hour.  Well, she supposed she would have to keep reminding herself until it sunk in.  She wasn’t letting Oliver down again. 

They landed on the side of the towering Temple of the Inscriptions with an undignified thump.  There was no way to slow down and land gracefully.  Felicity probably would have tumbled right off the steep incline if Oliver hadn’t landed on top of her, his arm shooting out so he wouldn’t crush her into the uneven limestone steps.

For a moment, Oliver surrounded her, his body behind and around her, his cheek against her messy hair and it was nothing but comforting in these terrible circumstances.  Felicity took a moment to catch her breath and let the feeling of safety seep into her bones.  It was absurd.  Objectively, this was the least safe she’d been in years, but the feeling was there none-the-less.

There was no time to analyze her feelings further, though.  Which was probably a good thing.  Analyzing her feelings never failed to get Felicity in trouble. 

Oliver helped steady her, somehow managing to stand up, balancing on the narrow steps, extract his bow, and cut the wire, all while keeping Felicity from tumbling down the side of the temple.   

Over her shoulder, Felicity watched the wire bounce and recoil, falling to the ground.  If HIVE won the battle, they’d find it.  What information would it give them?  Maybe nothing.  But maybe, it would lead them to the Temple of the Sun to find what was left of the slab.  Maybe into the jungle after Oliver and Felicity. 

It was impossible to tell and they had no time to further destroy the evidence.  Oliver was scrambling down the steps, the tiny narrow steps that Felicity found it impossible to balance on, heading for the jungle, calling out, “Come on! We have to go.”

Felicity did her best to follow his instructions, but those steps made her unsteady in the best of times, so she pushed aside how ridiculous she must look (and did feel) and scrambled on her hands and knees to the back of the temple.  Oliver, of course, walked with a speed and grace even a cat would envy. 

As soon as Oliver got close enough, he jumped down into the jungle, landing easily and turning to Felicity with open arms, gesturing with his hands for her to jump as well.

There wasn’t time to hesitate.  Working purely on instinct, Felicity stood and turned, throwing herself into Oliver’s open arms, trusting him to catch her.  And he did.  Of course, he did.  He had never failed to catch her.  Not once.  Not when she had been smart enough to let him.

He placed her firmly on the ground.  There was no time for lingering touches.  Oliver was all business.  He was Agent Queen now, Special Ops, the legendary Green Arrow.  Even while he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him into the jungle, Felicity recognized the way he held his shoulders and the way his keen eyes took in a dangerous situation.

And, clearly, Oliver knew where he was going.  Which was good because Felicity had no clue.  For the first time she really thought about that and it was terrifying. 

Were they just going to disappear into the jungle?  Try to  _walk_  to the Door?  That would take weeks.  The Door was over a hundred miles away, through the  _jungle_.  Not just a rainforest, but a fully-grown  _jungle_. How could they possibly survive that long?   Maybe there was a rendezvous point.  

_Please_ , let there be a rendezvous point.

But they hadn’t gone far (and already Felicity was short of breath from being pulled over the rough terrain,  _not_  a good sign) when Oliver stopped and dug through the vegetation, revealing a hidden green tarp and under that, _thank god_ , an ARGUS all terrain bike, larger and sturdier than a standard dirt bike, but with all the maneuverability.   

Of course, Oliver and Digg had planned for this.  How could Felicity have doubted them? 

Oliver easily stood the heavy bike, pulling off the seat to reveal a compartment, which was much more spacious than Felicity would have thought.  He pulled out a set of Kevlar vests and threw in his duffle bag, then his quiver and bow, but not until he had extracted two fire arms (the real kind, with  _bullets_ , not tranqs) and attached them to the bike’s handlebars.

Turning to Felicity, Oliver held out his hand.  “Give me your pack.”

Felicity was already slipping it off, because she knew they had to move and the greater distance they put between them and Palenque…and the team, the better.  For the first time, she let herself think about what that really meant. 

That if all went well (and, please god, let it go well) and they were able to get away, they would still be isolated from the team.  It would be just her and Oliver for god knows how long.  The idea made Felicity warm and tingly and _petrified_ her at the same time.  It was almost too much to contemplate.

Oliver traded her pack for Kevlar, but Felicity was so distracted by the idea of days…weeks possibly… _alone_  with Oliver that she almost didn’t notice he was replacing the seat and ignoring the second vest.  “What about you?”

“I’m fine.  We gotta get out of here.”

Narrowing her eyes, Felicity paused, the vest hanging off one arm as anger surged.  Un _friggen_ believable.  Did Oliver have a death wish?  Because it certainly seemed that way!  “I’m not putting on mine until you put on yours.”

Oliver shot her a fierce and irritated glare.  “It interferes with my move—”

“Bullshit, put it on!”

Oliver reeled back, clearly shocked by Felicity’s language and, to be honest, she was pretty shocked herself.   _But_ …Oliver yanked open the seat again, roughly, and grabbed the other vest.

Felicity managed to control the triumphant grin that begged to come out, instead warning, “And that goes double for the helmet.”  

She knew Oliver’s proclivity to ‘forget’ his protective head gear.  And that was before his suicide mission to Russia.  Felicity knew she wasn’t exactly in a position to make demands of him, but  _this_  wasn’t something she was willing to bend on.

“Fuck, Felicity,” Oliver grumbled as he shrugged into the vest.

She knew better than to say anything at that point.  Best to stay quiet after getting her way and not further rattle the boat.  Though, Felicity had to admit it felt good.  As if she had done one small thing to protect him the way Oliver always protested her. 

As soon as Felicity had the vest over her shoulders, Oliver reached out and pulled it tight around her, quickly doing up the complicated fastenings.  She didn’t think, just reached out and did the same for him, out of instinct or force of habit or…who knew?  But it was quick and efficient and they were done in no time. 

Oliver tossed her a helmet.  It was really starting to rain now and he had to raise his voice over the wind, “I’m going to need you to be my navigator.  You need to patch the comms to the team and let them know we’re clear, but I also need you to manage the GPS to the Door.  There are no roads here, Felicity.  The jungle is going to be a bitch to navigate, doubly so because of this goddamn rain, so…”  He sighed, his hands on his hips.  The look on his face making it clear just how difficult this was going to be.  “ _So_ the only comm line I’m going to put on is the one to  _you_.  I need you to be my eyes and ears.  Can you—?”

“Of course,” Felicity interrupted, she might be a goddamn basket case, but  _the hell_  if she wasn’t going to carry her weight the best she could.  And no  _way_  was she letting Oliver take care of her like she was made of glass.  They wouldn’t survive.  Besides, as bad as it sounded, his safety was still more important to her than her own.

Scooping up Oliver’s helmet, Felicity shoved it at him. “Now, put this damn thing on!”

Oliver chuckled, a proud glint in her eyes that made Felicity feel irrationally better.  As did him following  _her_  command and placing the helmet on his head. 

Felicity waited until she was seated behind Oliver, before putting on her helmet and pulling up the controls for the GPS and the comms on her glasses.  She hadn’t really used this feature before, but this way she wouldn’t have to look at her watch.  From her grip around Oliver’s waist, she could manipulate the watch without looking and see the controls on her glasses.

Oliver’s comm line went on first.  Here they go.  

Felicity took a deep breath and asked, “Can you hear me?” 

“Yup.”

Steeling herself and swallowing, Felicity pulled up first the GPS to the door, then the comms to the team (volume low for now) and heard it crackle as it turned on.  It was odd to have the controls right in front of her face, she felt very Ironman in his HUB.  It was a good thing the only thing she needed to focus on,  _besides_  this, was holding on to Oliver and not falling off. 

Oliver kicked started the bike and the engine roared to life.  Felicity wrapped her arms firmly around his waist, refusing to think about anything but the practicality of it.  

Not how right it felt.  

Not that Felicity had never thought she’d be in this position again and how incredibly grateful she was to have the opportunity despite the terrible circumstances.  Instead, she rested her right hand over the watch on her left wrist and tried to be ready for anything.

“Hold on tight.”

The bike surged forward into the jungle.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167337092482/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-10))
> 
> This marks the beginning of Part 2 of our story.  We’ll only hear from the team over the comms for a while as Felicity and Oliver head out for their own adventure.
> 
> This story is a labor it love, but is a huge stretch for me and is so much work that I couldn’t do it without  **Ireland1733, imusuallyobsessed,** and  **Fairytalehearts.** This chapter alone felt like I was juggling…I dunno something really oddly shaped.  And heavy.  A lot of them.  But my Betas make it all seem worth it and keep me focused on what’s missing from each chapter.  Thank you soooooo much!
> 
> I’m crazy excited to hear what you think so please drop in and let me know!
> 
> Thanks, and Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	12. Chapter 11: Lacandon Rainforest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/157160288280/previously-on) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 17, 2016_  
_10:18_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

 

“Hold on tight.”

It turned out that holding onto Oliver and not falling off the all-terrain motorcycle as it surged into the jungle took a whole lot more than  _a little_  of Felicity’s concentration. 

Cause holy frak…this ride…this ride was  _insane_.

Felicity heard the comms crackle on, but beyond that it was just background noise,  _wahwah_ ing Peanuts stile, because then the bike lurched and… _frak_ , it was all she could do to stay upright as she tightened her arms and legs…and prayed.  It was a struggle just to keep from falling off as the bike immediately flew over a tree root and around a bush or…some big pile of green.

The jungle was nothing but one big  _tangle of green_.  Leaves and vines and branches and roots.  It was hard to figure out what came from what plant.  Not that Felicity had time to figure that or  _anything_  out as they jerked and vibrated and swayed at a frightening speed.  It was difficult to even see the ground.  Oliver weaved to find as much of it as he could, but where he couldn’t, he just drove  _over_  whatever was in his way. 

And Felicity…she took a deep breath and leaned into Oliver, holding on for dear life.  Waiting… _hoping_ for the ride to even out and a little bit terrified that it wasn’t going to.  Crap!  Could they really go on like this for a  _hundred_  miles?  Could  _she_?  It would feel like a thousand.

Felicity strove to remember all the things she had learned about riding bikes with Oliver a million years ago.  To relax and let her body flow with his.  This wasn’t her first rodeo, not by a long shot.  He’d even taught her how to drive a motorcycle herself and she was actually competent at it.    She would even go so far as to say it was a rush, though she always preferred riding with Oliver.

ARGUS machines were built for speed and maneuverability.  They always felt like too much for her small frame, even the more compact ones that Sara and Lyla could handle as if they were born to them.  Felicity just didn’t have the strength, or the focus, to become one with a machine like they needed to on a high-speed chase. 

Which was what this was.  Only they were in the jungle instead of on a road.  And, _hopefully_ , HIVE wasn’t  _actively_  chasing them.  Yet.

But riding behind Oliver… _that_  Felicity had always excelled at.  She knew when to lean and when not to, how to melt into him, relaxing against the muscles of his back and letting them tell her how to move.  Her arms around him, the engine roaring between her legs, it verged on transcendental.  And sexy as frak. 

But not today. 

_Unfortunately_.

Felicity couldn’t even blame her fraked up mental state.  She almost  _wished_  it was sexual arousal she was battling.   _That_  she, at least, had some experience to draw from.  It wasn’t even that her discomfort at being this close to Oliver had her tense up.  No, she was doing her best to follow his lead, but…she couldn’t keep  _up_.  As soon as she leaned in one direction, they were going in another.  It was too much.

It was nothing she had ever experienced before.  Felicity had gone off-roading with Oliver in the past and hadn’t really cared for it, but this… _this_ was like riding a bucking Broncho.  On a roller coaster.  Without a safety harness.

She locked her hands together around Oliver’s waist and prayed that she would be able to hold on for the entire trip.  Felicity had never wished she hadn’t skipped so many workouts more.  God, what she wouldn’t give for her old upper body strength.

“Relax into me,” Oliver’s voice murmured in her ear and it was strange the way it echoed in Felicity’s helmet, overpowering the noise from the general comms.  “It’s going to be a long trip.”

Like Felicity didn’t know that.  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m trying.” 

But she put the extra effort into relaxing her thighs and, forcing herself to blow all the air out of her lungs, Felicity let her body fall onto Oliver’s back.  Metaphorically, of course, since she was _already_ pressed about as close as she could get. 

They jerked over several more rocks (or branches…who knew which?), Felicity’s body vibrating along with the distant echo of gunfire over the comms.  She had almost forgotten that she had turned it on.  She may be good at multitasking, but _this_  was impossible. 

“What direction, Sunshine?”

And, oh yeah, Felicity was also supposed to be the navigator.  Ha!  Yeah,  _that_  was going to work.

But even as Felicity doubted herself.  The nickname, which she was very sure Oliver used on purpose, had her attention focusing on him and not the rattling in her bones. 

Felicity had a job to do.  And even if it was difficult, almost  _impossible_  to do, it was no harder than what Oliver was doing.  Actually, it was whole hell of a lot easier.

Felicity leaned her helmet between Oliver’s shoulder blades and peeled open her eyelids (she didn’t even remember closing them) and blew out another breath.  She blinked her eyes to focus them on the information her glasses were feeding her.  It kind of made her dizzy trying to decipher all the different input. 

How did Iron Man do it? 

Oh, yeah, he wasn’t a real person.

But, somehow, Felicity was able to figure out the GPS and see the direction they were supposed to be going in.  “Head for two o’clock.”

Oliver weaved, finding a reasonable path with  _actual_  dirt to drive on and Felicity let out a sigh of relief, her already tired muscles releasing. 

“This good?” Oliver asked.

“On course.” 

And… _Halleluiah_!  She had accomplished something.  It felt good not to just be a literal and figurative burden on Oliver’s (admittedly strong) back. 

Now Felicity just had to stay  _alert_.  Field Agents with jobs to do didn’t close their eyes and whimper.  They stayed vigilant.  They managed to hold on  _and_  read the GPS  _and_  communicate with the team.  

Frak, field work sucked.  Had she really enjoyed this, once upon a time?  If they survived this, Felicity was never going into the field again.  Hell, maybe she’d quit ARGUS all together. 

And…that was eerily similar to what Felicity and Oliver had discussed before Tikal.  That wonderful night where they dreamed of…

Okay, now it was definitely time to pay attention to the  _team_.  Her adrenaline was high and her nerves were frayed and the last thing anyone needed was for Felicity to start sobbing into her helmet.  So refocusing it was.

Swallowing, Felicity turned up the volume on the general comms (making sure Oliver’s was still louder, because…still the most important), then turned on the outgoing comm as well.

The first voice Felicity made out was Slade’s.  “ _You call_ this _backup_?” came his thick Australian accent, irritation and aggression dripping from every word.

“ _There are fifty friendlies in-coming from the south and east, Deathstroke,”_  Lyla assured him, her voice firm and in control.  “ _Seven and ten minutes out_.”

“ _At this rate, we’re not going to last that long_.”  The words were calm, but it was the fact that they came from Sara that was terrifying. 

Sara never exaggerated.  And her confidence in battle was as firm as it was deserved. If _she_ thought they were in trouble…

The bottom fell out of Felicity’s stomach as the cold chill of fear shot through her nerves, made even worse because there was nothing she could do but listen. 

Please, god, she didn’t want to listen to her friends die.  She couldn’t.

And  _what_  was going on back there?  As difficult as it was being on this bike, Felicity couldn’t help but feel like it was a cop out.  That they should be standing next to their friends, like she was abandoning them.  It would be so much easier to die next to them, then to—

“ _Where the fuck is team Zeta_?” Slade growled.

Yes, well, that  _was_  the question of the hour.  Slade, surely, thought they should be there…

_Oh!_ Oh, frak!  They were waiting for her signal that they were away.  Felicity’s brain (her only real asset) was not working.  She was a liability.  How could she have forgotten that the team was waiting for her? 

“Here!” Felicity called out, like a second grader missing roll-call because she was day- dreaming.   God, she was a spaz.  She needed to jump start her stupid brain or someone was going to get killed.  “Here.  We’re away! Team Zeta is away!” 

Finally.  They were away. 

Felicity couldn’t help but think that even in her job of  _running away_ she was failing them.  It had taken too long, she had been too distracted, and now she should have told them they were away ages ago (well, minutes really, but minutes were ages in the middle of a battle).

All she could do now was hope to god that she wasn’t too late, that the time she lost because she was out of shape, or out of practice, or out of her _friggen mind_ wouldn’t cost any of her friends their lives. 

Felicity braced herself for derision. For Slade, at the very least, to demand to know what had taken them so damn long, but all she heard was Sara’s, “ _Thank god!  Spartan_?”

“ _Team Beta, away!  Go! Go! Go_!” Digg immediately ordered.  Or rather, roared.

“ _Yes, sir_ ,” Curtis chimed.

While Slade grunted, “ _About time_.”

“ _Copy.  All right, Overwatch_?” Sara asked, the concern in her voice making tears burn Felicity’s eyes and throat.

Felicity swallowed. “Five by five,” she said, using an old phrase she knew most of her friends would understand.  She just hoped her and Oliver really were fine.  Though, surely, they were doing better than the rest of the team.  Clenching her jaw (because she had promised herself she wouldn’t close her eyes again) Felicity squeezed Oliver tighter, almost as if that act would keep him safe.

Was she a horrible person for being relieved that Oliver, at least, wasn’t in the middle of that gun fight?

“ _Green Arrow_?” Digg asked in a clipped tone, jerking Felicity out of another potential anxiety spiral.

“Driving,” Felicity explained, marveling at how her voice actually sounded calm, professional.  How the frak was she managing _that_?  “Off the main comms, because of the…difficulty level.”  It sounded like he was playing a video game.  If only.  Mario Kart take them away.

“ _Good_ ,” was all Digg said.  But that was only because he didn’t know that Felicity was day dreaming about Nintendo.

Before Digg could bark out another order, which would have been nice because it was familiar and gave Felicity some sort of direction, Cait interrupted, “ _Can I get a medevac_ now?”  In just that brief sentence Felicity could hear Cait’s desperation.  Felicity could  _feel_  it.

And there was the fact that Caitlin hadn’t addressed Felicity at all.  Had showed no reaction to the news of her and Oliver’s safety…it made Felicity terrified for Roy.  And it made her ache for Caitlin. 

Because Cait was losing it.

“ _Well_ …”

That was Cisco and he was hesitating.  Felicity knew the sound of Cisco hesitating far too well.  It always came before bad news.  Could nothing go their way?  Why did she feel like this was  _Clash of the Titans_  and there was a room full of gods up in the clouds laughing maniacally as they tried to outdo each other in throwing ridiculous obstacles in their way? 

“ _We might have a little set back on that one_.”

“ _Cisco_!” Caitlin hissed and Felicity flinched.  Cisco didn’t deserve her anger, but Caitlin seemed beyond reason at the moment.   As evidenced by her using his real name over a comm…in the middle of a battle.  Cait was usually beyond professional.

_“Killer Frost_!” Digg snapped back, just as harshly, reminding her of the handles they used.  Used because not doing so could lead to someone dying.  This was field work 101 and Caitlin knew better. 

But Cait, honest to god,  _growled_ back at Digg.  She was really in a bad way.  Worse than Felicity, this time.  “ _Fine!_ Vibe _?!  What the hell is the hold up?!  We’re out of time here_.”

Okay, maybe  _way_  worse.  Crap.

“ _Iss finth_ …”

Was that Roy?  He sounded horrible.  Oh god, poor Puppy.  Maybe Caitlin wasn’t just falling into a PTSD fog.  Maybe things were just  _that_  bad.   

“ _Just a scratth_ …”

Felicity bit her lip and reminded herself not to say anything about Roy out loud.  Oliver couldn’t hear the team, but he could hear her and the last thing he needed while he was weaving through the jungle was to know his protégé was on his death bed with no help on its way.  

Oh god.   _Please_ , don’t let Roy be on his death bed.  Please, let help come.

“ _Killer Frost_ ,” Digg snapped again, reprimand still clear in his tone. “ _I told you no pain meds until_ — “

“ _I_ didn’t _.  That’s from the blood loss._ ”  Caitlin’s voice started out angry, but by the end of the sentence Felicity could hear the tears in it and she fought the urge to cry herself.  Poor sweet Puppy.  They couldn’t lose him too.  Felicity could only imagine (even though she tried really hard not to) what it must be like watching him die in her arms and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Lyla jumped in with a calm, “ _I’m sending an agent with o neg blood to your location right now, Killer Frost.  But we’re going to have to do a ground evac for Arsenal as soon as we can get you a clear way out of there.  Air is too risky.”_

Thank god, someone still knew how to be an ARGUS Agent.

“ _Why the fuck is it too risky_?!” Cait was full on hysterical now.

But while Caitlin’s tone wasn’t exactly what they needed right now, it was an excellent question.   And Felicity was almost afraid of the answer. 

Someone blew out a breath, a huff of static in her ear.  Felicity didn’t realize it was Cisco until he spoke, “ _Well, there’s this…there’s this hurricane.  We thought it was going to disperse over the Atlantic, but now it’s kinda sorta headed right for us.  You.”_

A hurricane.  Of course, it was a  _fraking_  hurricane.  This was what Felicity got for joking about one with Oliver.  This was what she got for thinking things  _might_  be okay.  For once.

What Digg said under his breath…it didn’t bear repeating.  And it was much scarier than Cait’s burgeoning meltdown.

But the sob Felicity heard echo over the comms twisted her stomach into knots.  They shouldn’t have come.  Her and Cait…they weren’t ready.

“ _Of course,_ ” Caitlin whimpered, laughing an ugly laugh. 

Felicity couldn’t even begin to process all the ramifications of Cisco’s news, all she could do was focus on Caitlin.  Because she was miles away, the distance growing with every second and her best friend was falling apart.  And it was Felicity’s job to be there for Cait when she fell apart.  Just like Cait was always there for her. 

This was how the two of them had survived the aftermath of Tikal.  Together.

And it was too late to regret coming.  They needed to move forward.  And Felicity sure as hell wasn’t letting Cait self-destruct.  Not if she could help it.  She was done abandoning the people she loved.  Felicity might not be physically next to her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help.

“ _Of course, it’s hurricane season after all,”_ Caitlin muttered, almost to herself.  Felicity hadn’t heard Cait melt down that often, certainly not as often as the other way around, but this was a bad one.   _“She was right.  We never should have_ —”

Felicity knew Caitlin was talking about her, just like she knew she had to do something damn quick.   “Hey, Killer Frost?  You hear me, Frosty?”  Felicity called out, using her oldest and silliest nick-name, feeling foolish as she did so, but hoping beyond hope it would have the same effect ‘Sunshine’ had for Felicity.

“ _I hear you, Overwatch_ ,” Cait returned, her voice wobbly and shaken.  It hurt to hear her like this, but that she had used Felicity’s handle was a good sign.  And did she sound almost relieved?

Swallowing, Felicity did a quick, mental count back from three and dove in, praying she would find the right words as she went.  “You kept me, Canary,  _and_  Spartan from bleeding out in much worse conditions than this and we’re all here to talk about it.  A little rain and wind isn’t going to keep you from saving  _anybody_.”

Felicity argued it as fiercely as she had ever argued anything.  It was easy.  Because it was all true.  Eight people walked into the Temple of the Jaguar seven years ago and it was only because of Oliver and Caitlin that seven were alive to tell about it. 

“Hey! Killer Frost is the best Field Medic in ARGUS.  You hear me?  The  _best_!” Felicity finished, hoping it was enough.  She heard a swallow and held her breath.

Finally, Caitlin answered, “ _Yup_.”

It was a start.  Not quite enough, but—

“ _The bess…besssthhh…hey, Frosthy, why are ‘t’s so hard to say_?” Roy slurred, making everyone chuckle and breaking the painful tension.

“Be _cause your tongue needs blood to function_ ,” Caitlin drawled, sounding more like herself.  “ _Now_ _stop wasting your energy on speaking.  Apparently, I’m the best Field Medic in ARGUS and if you die you’ll ruin my rep_.”

Chuckling with relief, Felicity threw in, “Hey, I got a full pill bottle if you need it?” Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, but Felicity always fell back on humor. 

After Tikal, they had survived on their bottles of Xanax and their dark humor.  She knew that Cait would understand that she was really offering the later.  Xanax wasn’t something either of them would even consider taking in a battle situation.  Even if it wasn’t at the bottom of Felicity’s bag, hurtling across the jungle in the opposite direction.

Of course, Digg didn’t know it was only a joke and he warned, “ _Overw_ —”

“ _Nah_ ,” Caitlin broke in, finally sounding like the agent she was, “ _I want to be able to have one of Deathstroke’s celebratory drinks when this as all over_.”

“ _That-a-girl_ ,” Deathstroke added, because he always had a comment when it came to booze.

Felicity closed her eyes and allowed the relief washed over her.  This was the team she knew.  And if she was being honest, this was the  _self_  she knew.  Or had known.  Once upon a time.  The self she needed to be right now. 

“Everything okay?” Oliver’s voice cut in over the others.  Felicity had forgotten for a moment he was listening to just her piece of the conversation and rewound what she had said in her mind to make sure she hadn’t said anything about Roy. 

She didn’t think she had specifically, though Oliver was certainly smart enough to have figured it out.  And he didn’t need that right now, another thing to worry about that he had absolutely no control over.  Hell, Felicity could barely handle it and all she had to do was hold on and keep an eye on GPS…

Which…Felicity had completely forgotten about.  Again.  God, she sucked. 

Her eyes flew to the GPS feed.  They were,  _thankfully,_  still on track.  But maybe she wasn’t so good at multitasking after all.  Wasn’t she too young to be losing her smarts?  Sometimes, Felicity felt like the oldest twenty-seven-year-old on the planet. 

Instead of answering Oliver out loud, and confusing everyone, Felicity nodded her head against his back and rubbed soothing circles over Oliver’s abdomen, hoping that would be a good enough answer to his question…

Wait.   _What_  was she doing?  Rubbing Oliver’s stomach was so  _not_  an appropriate agent-slash-partner thing to do! 

So why was Felicity still doing it?

_Hell_. 

Well, in all likelihood, Oliver could barely feel it because of the Kevlar.  Probably.  And he seemed to relax and stopped questioning her, which was good because trying to explain what was going on would just distract… _everyone_.  And  _no one_  could afford to be distracted right now.

Especially Felicity. 

And her belly rubbing. 

Time to stop now.

But it did seem to help Oliver concentrate on the not-road.  And distract him from thinking about how Roy was bleeding out while his doctor had a panic attack and his surgeon was stuck on the coast awaiting a hurricane.   How was this even Felicity’s life?  It was like a bad adventure novel. 

A moment later, Cait, sounding more like the professional doctor she was, said, “ _Blood’s here.  We’ll have you patched up in no time, Arsenal.  Who needs a fancy surgeon?”_

So apparently someone up there was  _finally_  taking pity on them.  Throwing them the tiniest of bones.

“ _Thaas right_ ,” Roy slurred, his spirits amazingly good, considering.  He was really a good kid.  He was so not allowed to die. “ _I likes my scars…jagged_.”

Caitlin laughed and it was music to Felicity’s ears.  It also brought tears to her eyes, because it made her think of Oliver’s scars and how much these two must really mean to each other after everything they went through in Russia. 

Digg blew out a breath.  “ _Thank you, Overwatch._ ” Then, before Felicity could respond, he called out, “ _Vibe, we need a hurricane report.”_

_“Ummm_ …” Cisco’s voice was still nervous.  This was one hell on a first mission, even from base.  But still, he needed to pull it together.  They had no time for the newbie jitters.  “ _Team Zeta_ —”

“ _Really_  needs that hurricane report,” Felicity cut in, because,  _seriously_ , this was not the time to coddle her.  And she knew it was her Cisco was trying to baby.  Because no one coddled Oliver.  Well, maybe she did.  Sometimes.  A tiny bit.

“Hurricane?” Oliver repeated, because this must have been the first time Felicity had said it out loud.  His voice was loud enough and tense enough that she had a strong impulse to do a little of that coddling. 

But they didn’t have time to coddle  _anyone_ and, unlike Roy’s status, this was intel Oliver needed, so Felicity answered, “Yup.”  She may have even popped the ‘p’ at the end.

“Of  _course_ ,” Oliver groaned, much like Cait had done, but with less sobbing.  Thank god for that. “This day wouldn’t be complete without a _fucking hurricane_.”

All Felicity could do was chuckle.  It was that or cry.  But somehow, Oliver’s wry humor made her feel better.  Until she thought about how well the day had started. 

“ _This really isn’t a laughing matter, Overwatch_ ,” Cisco snapped.  One would have thought _he_ was the one getting shot at.  Or driving through the jungle in a hurricane on a two-wheeled death mobile.    

“Sorry, I’m on a private line with Green Arrow too,” Felicity said, just so they didn’t think she was losing her mind and laughing at nothing.  “And we need to know what we’re up against with the weather, Vibe.”  Because it wasn’t like they could turn around now.

Cisco blew out a breath.  “ _Okay.  So, um…”_   Felicity imagined Lyla kicking him to get him talking.  Though maybe that was just her projecting.  “ _Hurricane_ Sebastian _is currently a Cat 3 hurricane_.” 

Ohh…kay…

Maybe Felicity didn’t want to know.  That was a…really, really strong hurricane.  Wasn’t Hurricane Katrina a cat 3?  Sandy was only a cat 1 and look what that did.  They were so fraked.

“ _But by the time it hits you_ ,” Cisco was quick to add, “ _about twenty-four hours from now, hopefully it will have downgraded to at least a 2, maybe even a 1.”_ He swallowed, audibly. _“If you’re lucky_.”

Yeah, ’cause their luck had held out this far.  Also, a category 1 or 2 hurricane…still pretty damn bad.  Trying to keep the frustration (and the fear) out of her voice, for Oliver’s sake if nothing else, Felicity asked, “What can we expect for the next twenty-four hours?”

“ _Intermittent thunderstorms.  High winds_.”  Cisco’s voice squeaked at the end.  “ _The usual_ …”

The usual.  Fan-fraking-tastic.  Felicity could do with a little less  _usual_.  Then she bit back an “Eep,” as the bike jerked over a particularly nasty bump.

“ _So, we all have twenty-four hours to get to shelter,”_  John said, his voice calm and soothing in its matter-of-factness.  “ _Vibe_ —”

This time, Cisco responded immediately.  “ _I’m sending everyone the coordinates of caves and safe land formations close to the destination_ —”

“ _Well, hello there, Team ARGUS.  Fancy meeting you here_.”

Felicity froze.  She imagined everyone did.  Because in a day of horrible things happening…this was very likely the horrible- _est_.  Because that was NOT a member of their team’s voice over the comms. 

“ _I don’t think we’ve met.  I’m Damian Darhk_.”

And…Felicity forgot to breathe. 

Fuck a hurricane.  A hurricane they could handle.  This was…this was…she thought she just might throw up.

“Felicity?” Oliver questioned, worry in his voice.  But not panic.  Because he didn’t just hear Damian  _Fucking_  Darhk announce his presence over  _their_ comm line.  Their  _secure_  ARGUS comm line.  Because if he did, he would panic.  Like they  _all_  were panicking!

Fumbling with her watch, Felicity found the controls and switched off her out-going comm to only go to Oliver.  There was nothing she could say, in that moment, that she wanted Darhk to hear.  But before she could even begin explaining the situation to Oliver…

Oh god, what was she going to tell Oliver?  He didn’t need this!  But it was too important not to, right?

The words stuck in her throat as Digg snapped, “ _Vibe_!”

“ _He didn’t hack in_ ,” Cisco defended quickly.   _He_  sounded panicked.  And this time Felicity would allow it as justified.  “ _It’s coming from Mr. Ter_ —”

“ _The tall funny looking fellow_?” asked the voice that was already burned into Felicity’s brain as Darhk’s.  “ _Yes, this is his communicator.  He was kind enough to let me borrow it for a bit.  Don’t worry, he and his two feisty friends are still alive.  For now_.”

Felicity’s heart sank.  She bit her lip to keep from crying out.  She couldn’t do that to Oliver.  She needed to tell him, but in a calm rational manner, not in a hysterical babbling mess.  She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, incredibly grateful for Oliver to hold on to. 

Sara.  Slade.  Curtis…

Curtis who was on his very first mission and thought it was great fun.  All of them in HIVE’s hands.  Just when Felicity didn’t think things could get worse…new levels of horrible just kept coming.  It was a nightmare.  Unfortunately, she’d been through this enough times to know she wasn’t going to wake up. 

“ _What do you want, Darhk_?” Digg barked, but still, he didn’t sound rattled.  Did nothing shake the man?

“ _Why, it’s so nice of you to ask_.” Crap, this Darhk guy was a real asshat.  “ _It has come to my attention that your little team here has the location to Kin Cuudad.  Now, all you have to do_ —”

There was crackle on the line.  Then everything went dead and all Felicity could hear was static.  Her chest seized so violently that she really thought she might be having a heart attack.

Felicity had barely managed to force air into her lungs when Lyla’s voice came over her comm, “ _Felicity, can you hear me?”_

Felicity?  Not Overwatch?  What the hell?  But thank  _god_  for a friendly voice.  “Yeah, I can hear you,” she whispered, not able to get her voice to make a stronger sound.

“ _Overwatch, copy?!”_  Lyla asked louder.

Then Felicity remembered that she had her outgoing comm off and the emergency line couldn’t change that, assuming this  _was_  the emergency line.  She had no fraking idea what was going on any more.  Felicity turned it back on as fast as her cramped and uncoordinated hands could manage, croaking, “Overwatch here.  Copy, Harbinger.”

Lyla’s sigh of relief was clear, but brief, as she launched ahead, “ _Listen quickly.  I’ve turned off the main line.  This is just you and me.  Cisco is currently erasing everyone’s access to the Door’s location, except for you and Oliver.”_

Oh.  Okay.  This was bad.   _Real_  bad.  This meant Felicity and Oliver were really on their own now.  Possibly permanently, because if the rest of the team didn’t have access to the location, how were they going to find them later?  If they survived, that was…crap.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Felicity answered, “Okay.”  She probably should have said more, but she was lucky she was able to get that out without a pathetic whimper. 

“ _Good.  The photograph of the Door_ —”

“With us,” Felicity quickly reassured, suddenly incredibly grateful for over-packing her day bag and her decision to take the photo with her for reference.  “Everything is with us.”  Because she really couldn’t think of anything important that wasn’t.  All her notes were on her tablet and she had already disconnected  _that_  from the satellite.

Caitlin might have notes from yesterday, but they hadn’t found anything then that was worth protecting.  And the stuff they found this morning…they had the artifacts they had taken with them, the photos in her tablet and…Oliver had blown up the rest.

“ _Thank god_ ,” Lyla’s relief was palpable.  “ _We’re cutting you two off from the satellite uplink to the ARGUS system.  You won’t be able to communicate with the team, but Darhk won’t be able to find you either.  Vibe will reconnect you when we are certain we are no longer compromised._ ”

If they didn’t have access to the rest of the team…to base…it was too much to even process…

“Understood,” Felicity managed to say, willing herself not to cry. 

This was all very, very bad.  Roy was hurt.  Half the team had been captured and the mission was in her and Oliver’s hands.  If there was ever a time she needed to be Overwatch, this was it.  Hell, Felicity needed to be  _Sunshine_.  The Ass-kicking version.  For Oliver.

“ _Good luck, Felicity_.” 

And that was it.  The line crackled and went dead.  No more instructions.  No ‘Do you have any questions?’  Nothing.

The silence felt it like a knife in Felicity’s chest.

“Care to fill me in.”

Oliver’s words filled the void and Felicity was able to breathe again. 

Okay.  It was going to be  _okay_.  She wasn’t alone.  She had Oliver.  And no matter what happened five years ago, or in the long years since, there was no one in the world Felicity would rather be in this situation with.  Her and Oliver, they were a good team.  They could do this.  She just needed to focus and stop letting her emotions overwhelm her.

“Darhk—”

“ _Fuck_!”

Felicity had just begun when a black blur swept across her line of vision, making her jump.  Oliver swerved, cursing, and they hit… _something_ …

The bike careened wildly and Felicity knew then that Oliver had lost control.  But there was nothing she could do.  She held on as tight as she could.  After that...

It all felt like it was happening in slow motion.

Oliver threw out his arm to break their fall as the bike toppled over.  Felicity’s arm shot out as well.  But it was too late. 

Or she wasn’t strong enough or…

Her head hit the ground.  The helmet seemed to bounce.  The shock reverberating…

Then everything went black.

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

_September 17, 2016_  
_10:45_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

 

The first thing that drifted into Felicity’s consciousness was Oliver’s rough voice pleading, “Felicity, _baby_ , stay with me.  You hear me, Sunshine?  Don’t you leave me now!”

Of course, Felicity assumed it was a dream.   Oliver calling her ‘baby,’ his tone soft and intimate…how could it be anything but a dream?   And that knowledge certainly didn’t make her want to wake up.  Though, there was a desperation in his tone.  So maybe that was a sign it was about to turn into a nightmare. 

Dreams like these usually did.  Felicity couldn’t have nice things.

But then other things floated into her consciousness.  Her pounding head, for one.  Which wasn’t her usual dream fare, or nightmare fare for that matter.   Then the cold wet spongy ground underneath her, complete with poky things jabbing her in uncomfortable places. 

Then Felicity’s head was being shifted, manipulated, and, suddenly the pain spiked and she let out a low moan.

But then there was Oliver’s beautiful voice.   “Sorry.  Sorry.  It’s okay.  I’m here.   Felicity…just…you can’t leave me now.  You’re stronger than this.  Open your eyes, baby.  Stay with me.”

Ha!  Little did he know she wasn’t strong at all.  But Felicity couldn’t refuse Oliver.  Not after everything…not that she had ever  _wanted_  to refuse him, but now she pushed herself to give him what he wanted. _Anything_  he wanted.

It was harder than she would have thought.  Felicity’s head jerked again with one final tug of her helmet.  It may have been gentle but it was enough to make her see stars…but maybe that was just light on the other side of her eyelids.

Hands wove through her hair, cupping her scull…Oliver’s hands.  Felicity would know Oliver’s hands anywhere.  Strong and calloused and insanely gentle for a man so big.  It had been so long.  And it felt so good she wanted to purr.

_“Fe-li-ci-ty_ …” Oliver whimpered.

He was upset.  It was not okay for Oliver to be that upset.  Felicity had to fix it.

Forcing her eyes open, Felicity blinked as daylight pierced her skull.  It wasn’t even that bright out but…it came back to her in a rush. 

The battle.  The hurricane.  The bike accident.  Frak. 

Felicity was cursed.  That was the only explanation.

Oliver must have pulled Felicity off the bike and taken off her helmet, which meant  _he_  was fine and that was the most important thing.  Also, the only thing that hurt was her head, so no broken bones…well, her left hand and arm stung, so it was probably pretty scratched up, but she knew what a broken bone felt like and that wasn’t it.

Her eyes finally managed to come into focus and the only thing in her field of vision was Oliver’s face, which normally would have been fine.  Awesome even.  It was a very nice face.  Her favorite thing to look at actually.  But this time it was…way too devastated for her taste.  And a little too close for comfort…or, at least, for her sanity. 

His hair was wet from the light rain, which was kinda sexy, but made Felicity wonder…okay,  _worry_ …just how long she had been out.   How long had Oliver been kneeling over her not knowing if she would wake up or not?

Poor Oliver.  He’d been through too much.  Felicity needed to reassure him.  She needed to…

“I told you we needed the helmets.”

_Or_  she could say that. 

Oliver let out a long breath and his shoulders sagged, his mouth forming a smile that was just wide enough to show a hint of dimples.  He pressed a long kiss to her forehead and Felicity resisted the urge to hum.  She wanted to just lie there and go to sleep.  

_So_  not a good idea.

“You okay?” Oliver asked roughly, after he finally pulled back.

Felicity nodded before she could a) pause and see if it was the truth and b) remember nodding was probably the worst idea ever as pain ricocheted through her skull.  That’s what she got for listening to her emotions (and her need to wipe the worry… _the fear_  off of Oliver’s face) first and her brain second.  Of course, her brain  _was_  rather rattled at the moment. 

Finally, Felicity murmured, “Yeah, just a slight headache.”

It wasn’t  _that_  bad  really.  Felicity probably had a small concussion, but she wasn’t nauseous and that was a good sign.  There wasn’t an agent at ARGUS who wasn’t well acquainted with what a concussion felt like. 

Felicity struggled to sit up and immediately Oliver’s hands were on her shoulders, helping to ease her upright.  Which was nice, but now probably wasn’t the time to focus on that.  Once she was sitting, she pushed back her now wet hair and took in her surroundings.  Looked like…

The middle of the goddamn jungle.   _Great_. 

“What happened?” Felicity asked with a sigh.

Standing, Oliver’s brief smile of relief giving way to a furrowed brow and a broody frown.  His hands found his hips as he surveyed the landscape.  Then, without stopping to answer Felicity’s question, he detached a pistol from the handlebars of the bike. 

Well, wasn’t  _that_  just the best answer ever?  “Oliver?”

Somehow, Oliver’s frown deepened and his mood made Felicity more on edge than anything else.  His eyes never left the jungle as he murmured, “Something jumped out at us.”

Okay, maybe his _words_  made her the most on edge.  Frak.  

Felicity sat fully upright, probably faster than she should have considering her pounding head.  “HIVE?”  she asked, debating grabbing the other firearm for herself. 

Slowly, Oliver shook his head.  “Not unless they have operatives covered in black fur.” He shot Felicity a look.  “They have black panthers in this area of the world?”

Ummm…double frak. 

Felicity swallowed.  “Jaguars.  They have black  _jaguars_.”  Because jaguars were a staple of Mayan lore and the locals said the rare black ones…well, they considered them especially deadly.

Oliver nodded, his eyes searching the trees and the dense vegetation.  There were plenty of places for a cat like that to hide.  It could be staring at them and planning its next meal… _them_ …as they spoke. 

“Well, that’s my best guess as to what it was.”

Well… 

“Fuck.”  There just wasn’t anything else to say.  This wasn’t a ‘frak.’  This was well  _beyond_  a ‘frak.’

“Yup,” Oliver agreed.

Also, had Felicity been thinking there wasn’t much else the universe could throw at them?  That the situation couldn’t  _possibly_  get worse?  Had some higher power taken that as a challenge?  She hadn’t even said anything out loud, for frak’s sake!  Were thoughts enough to jinx them now?   _So_  not fair.

Swallowing, Felicity tried to wrack her brain for everything… _anything_  she knew about jaguars that might help as her eyes joined Oliver’s search of the trees.  Unfortunately, she really didn’t think the mythical companion of the Sun God compared to the real, twenty-first century version. 

“Where do you think it went?” Felicity asked, though it felt like a stupid question.  Oliver wouldn’t be searching for it if he knew where it went.  But…maybe it was gone.  Like frightened away or something.  Back playing with its cubs.  Anything.  They had enough to deal with, a man-eating cat was way over the line.

But again, Oliver just did that slow head shake thing, as if a regular head shake would distract him too much from his vigil.  “No idea.  It all happened pretty fast.  You weren’t out long, but…”

Did Oliver’s voice just crack?  No, surely not.  But he  _did_  take a deep breath before he whispered, “But it hasn’t tried to eat us yet, so that’s something.” He met Felicity’s eyes and shrugged.  “Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe it wasn’t a jaguar.  Is there anything else around here with black fur?”

The size of a jaguar?  “Uhhh…there are a couple different types of monkeys.  Bats, maybe?”  Felicity was reaching.  As much as she wished Oliver was wrong…

And the look Oliver gave her didn’t reassure her it could be one of those options either, even though he said, “Maybe.  Can you check your watch?  Mine got smashed in the crash and it won’t turn on.”

Oh.  Well.  Wasn’t that just  _lovely_?

Jerking her wrist up…what had Felicity said about there not being much else the universe could throw at them?  She supposed she should be glad her glasses were intact, though the controls she had pulled up earlier were gone and her watch…giant crack down the middle. 

_Goddamn_  it!  These were supposed to be practically indestructible!  At least, it seemed to turn on…

“I can’t get the comms to work either,” Oliver added.

The control screen was taking forever to load…distracted, Felicity tried not to tap the phone a tenth time and murmured, “That’s because Lyla cut the comms…goddamn it!  We need this to get the GPS to work!”  And if Cisco destroyed all other digital traces of the Door’s location and Felicity couldn’t get the location to come up…what then?   _Then_  they were completely lost in the middle of the jungle?  And did  _anyone_  still have access to the Door’s location?  Would that be lost for good too?

“What do you  _mean_  Lyla cut off the comms!?”

Felicity’s eyes jerked up.  Oh.  Yeah.  He didn’t know…a lot.  She winced.

Oliver was glaring at her, tension pouring from him in waves.  Felicity swallowed and looked back at the watch, her fingers still working to try to pull up the GPS.   Because they really needed the GPS, goddamn it!  And, also, it was hard to look at him right then. 

Better to just yank off the band-aid.  Felicity swallowed and forced herself to say, “Darhk got ahold of Curtis’ comm, and well, Curtis…and also Sara and Slade.  But since they had access to our comms…base cut us off so HIVE can’t track us.  Or find the Door.” 

And…it all sounded even worse when she said it out loud.  Also, every time Felicity pulled up the map on her watch it glitched and reverted to the control screen.

Frak. Frak.  _Frak_.

Oliver’s head fell back.  “Fantastic.  What else could go wrong?”

Yup, and that was the question Felicity had been afraid to ask out loud, though it had been repeating in her mind often enough.  She bit her lip to keep from reprimanding Oliver for jinxing them (she really didn’t think he would take that well at the moment).

Felicity wrinkled her nose and met Oliver’s gaze.  “You mean besides the category 3 hurricane headed straight for the gulf…and, well, us?” It came out a little squeaky, but not telling him didn’t make it any less true.   “I need my tool kit so I can reboot this.  It’s in my bag.” 

Because maybe that was one thing Felicity could control.   A broken watch she could fix.  A jaguar…a hurricane…an evil conglomerate led by a mad man…

“Yes, besides that,” Oliver drawled, lifting the bike and unhooking the seat. 

Well, one thing at a time.  The jaguar was probably the most pressing thing at the moment.  And fixing the watch.   Though the winds were picking up and surely that was relevant.  “Is the bike okay?” she asked, because that was even  _more_  relevant.  Without the bike…Felicity didn’t know how long they could survive stranded in the jungle without transportation.

Oliver pulled out Felicity’s day bag and handed it to her.  “I haven’t had a chance to look it over yet.  You were my first priority.  Then, you know, not getting eaten by a giant cat.”

He said the entire thing matter-of-factly, with very little inflection, so maybe it was strange how warm and tingly Oliver’s words made her.  Just the idea of him caring for her after the crash made her blush.  And that she was his first priority. It just sounded like he was saying so much more than he needed to care for his wounded partner.  But maybe Felicity was reading into it more than she should.

Though, poor Oliver.  Felicity could only imagine what it had been like to get through a crash like that and realize that she was unconscious in the middle of the jungle and he couldn’t radio for help.   If it had been the other way around and she had found him like that…

Felicity shook herself.  They didn’t have time for her thoughts to wonder down that road.  Or any other.   She dug into her bag to find her mini-tool kit and pulled out her smallest screw driver.  When she glanced up, Oliver was kneeling next to the bike, looking it over for damage.  She was about to turn back to her watch.  She needed to find a way to shield it from the rain if she was going to do surgery on it…

But something caught Felicity’s eye in the branches beyond them.

Something moving in a direction opposite to that of the wind.

Her heart skipped a beat and raced ahead, her mouth going dry as Felicity went very, very still.  It moved again and she almost jumped, but managed to stay quiet, slowly reaching for Oliver’s forearm.

His eyes flew to hers and Felicity whispered, “Oliver, over there….”

Careful not to make any sudden movements, she pointed up into the branches where two piercing blue eyes, surrounded by jet black fur, peaked out of the foliage. 

Their jaguar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167343096277/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-11))
> 
> Some of you (especially those who are here mainly for the romance) may be feeling like I’m throwing everything and the kitchen sink at poor Oliver and Felicity.  And, maybe I am, but I promise that everything they are facing right now is there for a reason and will come back later.
> 
> I’m sure that a lot of you are impatient to get to what I’m calling the “Romantic Climax” (as opposed to the overall climax that will come later).  Trust me when I say that no one is more impatient to get there than me.  It’s been playing in my head  _forever_.  This slow build/character development/plot stuff is  _hard_.  Part of me would love to skip to the good stuff, but I’m holding strong.  And, hopefully, it will be all the better for the buildup.
> 
> My deepest gratitude for all the care and attention given by these lovely ladies, **Ireland1733, imusuallyobsessed,** and  **Fairytalehearts.** I can’t tell you the amount of handholding I need for this story and how important they are to the process.
> 
> And thank you to everyone who comments and kudos.  I can’t believe how awesome my readers are! 
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
>  


	13. Chapter 12:Lacandon Rainforest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/157160288280/previously-on) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 17, 2016_  
_10:59_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

 

Oliver’s eyes flew up and Felicity could tell the exact moment that he caught sight of the jaguar in the foliage.  His whole body tensed and coiled, readying for battle.  She couldn’t help but see the similarities between him and the great cat.  The power.  The grace.  Even the intensity in their blue eyes. 

Was that normal?  For jaguars to have blue eyes?  Felicity didn’t think so.

It was pretty awesome that they were going to be mauled to death, then eaten by such a rare and beautiful creature.

Ha!  Was she officially insane now? 

Okay, deep breath.  They weren’t going to die. 

Not here.  Not today. 

Oliver already had a gun in his hand and they had multiple weapons available.  He wasn’t as good with a gun as a bow and arrow, but he was still a spectacular shot.  They could survive this.  They  _would_  survive this.

But, please god, this was  _enough_!  No more obstacles!  Their plate was officially  _full_.  To the brim.  Overflowing, actually.  They had met their quota of bad luck for the next…five _million_ years.

“Get behind me,” Oliver whispered, gesturing with his free hand as he trained his gun on the cat.

And all Felicity could do was roll her eyes.  Because…seriously?  There was heroically protective and there was just… _asinine_.

“And what good is  _that_  going to do, Oliver? What chance do I stand if  _you_  get mauled by a jaguar?” Felicity hissed.  Then because, apparently, she was nervous (which was fair, she’d never seen a deadly animal without a massive glass wall between them before), she just kept on rambling in a rapid-fire, deeply sarcastic whisper, “Even if we get lucky enough for him to choke to death on your hard head, exactly how do you think I’m going to survive in this jungle by myself, pray tell?”

It also might make Felicity a bit peeved when Oliver worried about everyone's safety  _but his own._

Oliver’s only answer was a grunt and a clenched jaw.  Which either meant she won the argument or that he thought it was a stupid time to debate the issue.  And, while the second was more likely, Felicity chose to believe it was the first.  It made her feel better, in some odd way.

“Just get me my bow,” Oliver growled in a low voice.  Evidently, he was trying to become one with the jaguar.

It was a more productive request than telling her to get behind him at least.  Though Felicity wasn’t sure if the demand was because he felt he would have better aim with his arrows (which he generally did, on a scary level) or because he was still trying to get her behind him, only more sneakily. 

Either way, to continue to argue with him would probably get them both killed so Felicity reached into his duffle bag.  But when she found the tranq gun first, she grabbed that instead.

Oliver frowned (well, frowned  _more_ , his scowl was particularly impressive at this point) when Felicity pressed it into his free hand. 

“This isn’t my bow,” Oliver snapped, getting really pissed now.

“No, but...” Felicity swallowed.  She had a reason for grabbing the tranq instead, she knew she did.  She just had to figure out what it was.  Her instincts told her this was right move…finally she whispered, just loud enough for Oliver to hear over the escalating winds, “If you shoot and don’t get an instant kill shot, it will just make him angrier.  _Any_ shot from this will slow him down instantly.” 

That was logical, right?  Felicity was kinda impressed by herself.

But she only got a grunt for her very intelligent (if she did say so herself) argument.  Apparently, Jungle Green Arrow preferred grunting as his main form of communication.  She’d think he’d like it here with all the green.  Ha! 

Okay…she really  _was_  losing it.  But to be fair, Felicity was rapidly becoming soaking wet and it was getting cold with the wind and this day was just _too much_. 

And, oh yeah, they were stranded in the jungle about to be  _eaten_.

When Oliver exchanged the real gun in his dominant hand for the tranq gun, Felicity felt a burst of satisfaction.  Even (strangely) relief.  Enough that it kept her from getting irritated when he got all bossy and  _commanded_ , “Reboot your watch.  We need to get the hell out of here.”

So Oliver wasn’t going to shoot the cat out of hand.  Felicity found herself oddly comforted by that.  Which was utterly ridiculous and kind of insane.

Because fixing a broken smart watch in the rain, while being watched by a giant black jaguar as Oliver stood guard…rather nerve wracking.  It would be a whole lot easier, and safer, if the cat was out of the way, but she must really be a bleeding heart because Felicity didn’t want that.  Like deep in her gut, she wanted that cat to survive. 

Yup, she was nuts.

Felicity used her helmet to keep the rain from the watch as she worked.  Which impeded her view…which wasn’t great to begin with because of the rain beading on her glasses and the sky getting darker by the minute. 

Was it night already?  Couldn’t be.  It had just been morning.  Though, it wasn’t like Felicity could  _check her watch_ and see what time it was.

The device chimed, finally powering down and Felicity blew out a breath.  Finally, one small thing worked.  She’d take any victory she could get at this point.

“How’s Bagheera?” Felicity asked as she watched the watch do its reboot thing, trying to channel her impatience.  The wait to see if the device would do as it was told was excruciating. 

“Hasn’t moved an inch,” Oliver returned, his voice hard. 

Didn’t look like Oliver had either.  Damn, didn’t his shoulder hurt from holding his arm out like that?  And, all while, the jaguar lounged on a branch, content as can be.  Oliver was stubborn.  Like crazy, ridiculously,  _epically_  stubborn, but how long could his shoulder muscles hold out?  There was only so much the human body could take.

But if the damn watch would just  _work_!  Come on.  Come on.  Felicity’s heart raced and her fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on her thigh.

The ARGUS symbol came up, followed by the thumb impression identifier, and Felicity held her breath as she wiped her thumb dry and held it over the watch face, praying that it could still be read with the enormous crack down the center of the screen.

It beeped.  Which meant that it worked.  Thank—

But  _frak_  was it loud.  Felicity didn’t remember it being that loud.

“Tell me that’s a good sign,” Oliver barked, sounding even more tense.  He didn’t bother to whisper this time.  Why would he when the watch had just announced their presence to the world?  And the jaguar, he was already  _very aware_  that they were there.  “Because I don’t think our friend liked it very much.”

Well, wasn’t  _that_  lovely?  Felicity’s heart lodged in her throat at the mere idea of that cat being set off by the loud piercing sound.  Which she had no control over.  And Oliver right in its path. 

At least the noise was over.  Assuming it wasn’t going to start again.  At any time.  Because Felicity seemed to have  _no control_  over the damn thing.  It was a control-freak’s worst nightmare.

“Sorry.  Sorry.  I don’t know why it was that loud, the sound must be messed up,” Felicity babbled, just to release some of her excess energy.  How much else was fraked up on this watch?  It was one thing to try and fix something this complicated in her lab, but under these conditions…  “I just need to do the retinal scan.” 

 _Please_ , let this work.  Taking a deep breath, Felicity lifted her glasses onto her head and held up the watch.  Shielding it from the rain with her other hand, she prayed.  She didn’t know what they were going to do if this didn’t work.

“ACCEPTED!” the watch blared, making Felicity jump.  The sound was  _definitely_  fraked up.  Then there was another blaring beep.  And this one was _not_  short.

It was overlapped… _overwhelmed_ …by a strange screeching roar.  

And with all she had been through, Felicity didn’t know if she had ever heard a sound more terror-inducing than that.

Felicity sprang up, stumbled back, her eyes flying to Oliver, then to the Jaguar.  It was standing now, ready to pounce.  There had to be something she could do to keep it from attacking Oliver.  Something she could throw or…she  _actually_  had the impulse to jump in front of him, which was irrational given he had a gun in each hand and…well, look how well that worked out last time around. 

Oh  _god_ , it—

It…it  _pounced_!

Felicity's chest seized and she couldn’t breathe…

Fffshoot!  Fffshoot! 

The tranq fired twice, rapid fire. 

Oliver!!! 

But her throat convulsed and his name was stuck in her chest.  Along with a scream of terror and…then…

It was over. 

Done. 

Oliver was okay and the great cat lay in a heap on the jungle floor, one tranq in his neck, the other in his flank.

Her eyes fell closed and Felicity pressed her hand, watch clutched in her palm, to her chest.  She counted heartbeats as they slowly resumed a normal rhythm.  She felt dizzy. 

Thank the fraking lord!

It was okay.  Oliver was okay.   How could Felicity have doubted him?  Of course, he had this.  Easy-peasy. 

But Felicity…she was  _so_  not cut out for this life any more.  Was there really a time when this kind of thing was fun?

Yet, when Felicity finally settled her eyes on Oliver…well, he didn’t look like he was having fun either.  Maybe only the young and stupid thought this was fun.  Once you had experienced the consequences…it was all over.

“You okay?” Felicity asked, her voice shaking.  It took everything she had to resist the urge to throw herself into his arms and run her hands over every inch of his body, just to  _make sure_ he was alright.  Which was absurd, because the cat hadn’t come anywhere near him.  

But, damn, Felicity missed the days when such a thing would have been her right.  Even a hug, just a short one, would have helped so much right then.

Oliver nodded in response to her question.  And if he wanted a hug, or would even accept one, he gave no indication.  Hell, if he gave Felicity the slightest  _hint_  that he would be receptive, she probably would have launched herself at him.  But he didn’t even spare her a glance, just carefully stepped closer to the animal. 

He looked fine…scratch that.  _Oliver_ looked fine.  The _cat_ looked like a limp rag. 

Physically, Oliver looked as perfect as he always did.  Mentally…well, he looked _damn_ cranky.   He had a clear, ‘Approach at your own risk,’ vibe.  Even so, Felicity had to clench her fists until her nails bit into her palms to keep from touching him. 

Though, somehow, Felicity still found herself standing next to Oliver, so close that if the wind blew hard enough they would be pressed full-length against each other.  

It probably wasn’t a good idea to wish for a gust of wind, was it?  With Felicity’s current luck, it would likely result in a tornado.

When Oliver crouched next to the animal, Felicity followed, whether to get a good look at the jaguar or because some magnet was keeping her from being more than a few inches away from Oliver, she didn’t know. 

Felicity could actually  _feel_  the latent adrenaline running through her system and prayed it wouldn’t crash too hard.  They weren’t out of the woods yet.  Not by a long shot.

She also wondered if being this close to the animal, its mouth especially, was a good idea.  Though, if Oliver was going to do it, then Felicity was too.  Plus, Cait had said two shots could take down an elephant so it had to be safe.  Or had it been one?  Actually, Caitlin had said two shots would kill a grown man.  So the two tranqs in its fur were not good news for the jaguar.

Poor kitty.

The cat was sprawled across the jungle floor, his powerful body limp but for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.  So, miraculously, he was still alive. 

It looked so peaceful.

Peaceful and beautiful.  A living work of art.  Like it couldn’t… _wouldn’t_  hurt a fly.  Oliver looked like this when he was sleeping.  Innocent.  Sweet, almost.

Felicity felt relief.  To see the steady rise and fall of this beautiful creature’s chest.  Why was she so relieved that the jaguar that had almost  _eaten_ them was still alive?  She loved animals as much as the next person, but she loved life a whole hell of a lot more and she loved Oliver…well, that just wasn’t something she needed to quantify at the moment.

But there was something about this cat.  Maybe it was just that it was such an incredible opportunity.  To be this close to such a rare and beautiful creature.  Or maybe in her ridiculous fantasifull way, it was because the jaguar reminded her of the man next to her. 

This creature  _would_  have killed them…but not out of malice or spite or evil.  But because it was his nature.  To him they were nothing but food.  He would have killed them to survive.  It was terrifying, yet….it gleaned an incredible respect from Felicity.  It was impossible to hate the animal when his motives were so…well, pure.  Also… _so pretty_.

The jaguar’s coat was wet and shined in the little light they had.  He wasn’t completely black.  The trademark circular pattern of the jaguar was visible…just in different shades of black.  Was such a thing possible?  Did black even have shades?  But the background color was a blackish red color with the rings getting progressively darker, until the middle spot stood out in jet black.

“Wow.  He’s beautiful.”

Oliver’s grunt, this time, was incredulous.  It seemed he didn’t exactly share her awe.  Felicity imagined Oliver was rolling his eyes at her, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the stunning animal sleeping so soundly in front of them. 

“And he would have mauled us to death without a thought,” Oliver muttered, probing the animal with the butt of his tranq gun.

On instinct, Felicity grabbed Oliver’s arm.  “Don’t kill him!” It was incredible that he had survived two hits, one more would be the end for him for good and, really, the jaguar hadn’t done anything wrong.  They were  _invading_  his territory, not the other way around.

Oliver shot her a disbelieving look and Felicity defended, “They’re endangered.”  Which she was _thought_ they were and…

Felicity just couldn’t bear the thought of killing this beautiful creature unnecessarily.  Poor pretty kitty was just hungry.  And, maybe, even a little scared of the obnoxious noises they had set off.  Though she didn’t think that argument would hold water with Oliver.

Sighing, Oliver closed his eyes for a moment.  His left hand coming up to rub his forehead.  Felicity wanted to kiss the furrow away.   “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ —”

Felicity kind of loved it when Oliver said her name that way, even if it  _was_  exasperated.  It was like…something only Oliver could do.  No one else could match the way  _he_  said it.  It was such a _them_  thing. 

“He’ll be out for at least twelve hours,” Felicity argued, though it was likely unnecessary.  She knew by the set of Oliver’s shoulders and the resigned (but unhappy) look on his face that she was going to get her way.  She refused to smile about it.  She just wished he felt better about the choice.  “By then we should be long gone.  Oliver, _please_ , there’s no need to kill him.”

“ _If_  we get the bike to work.  And the GPS,” Oliver argued, but his tone was calmer, reconciled. “Not to mention, according to Caitlin and Curtis those two shots should have killed him, so I don’t know how long we can trust him to be out.”

That dark pessimism that Oliver had when Felicity first met him, back in the Academy, right after he was rescued from Lian Yu, had settled in.  That I’ve-seen-horrible-things-and-then-things-got-worse look was in his eyes.  Oh, he was prepared to fight to survive, to  _win_ , she knew that.  She knew he was determined, but he was  _expecting_  the worst.

This was an Oliver Felicity had rarely seen by the end of their relationship.  The end that hadn’t felt like an end at all…had felt like the middle…a never-ending middle, until  _she_ had struck it dead without warning. 

Was this the result?  Had  _this_  Oliver…this harder jaded guarded Oliver come back then?  Because of her and her choices?  Because of what she had done to him?

Felicity hated the mere thought of it.  Despised it, really.  But it was reality.  She was certain it was her fault.  Whether it was the abrupt break-up or Russia, it was  _her_  fault.

And only  _she_  could fix it.

But right now…Oliver was right about one thing.  They needed a working bike and a working GPS.  Okay, maybe, that was two things.  Then, if they could find the Door and get through it, maybe Felicity could bring back  _her_  Oliver.  The one with hope. 

And if Felicity dared to hope herself, when she told him the truth (and didn’t she have to?) maybe, just maybe, by some miracle Oliver would forgive her.

“Jungle cats have a high metabolism, that’s all.  Those two shots…I’m sure they came damn close to killing him.”  Felicity swallowed, her eyes going back to her kitty.  “Cait and Curtis are never far off.  In fact, I bet he’ll sleep for _more than_ twelve hours.”

Oliver shot her a skeptical look.  But only briefly before his eyes, once again, fixed vigilantly on the jaguar.

Okay.  Maybe moving on would help? 

“Uh…I rebooted my watch to the basic settings,” Felicity told him, trying to force them both back to the matter at hand.  “I should be able to get the GPS—”

“Do it,” Oliver told her, but it wasn’t a bark.  It was almost a sigh.  He sounded emotionally drained already and they weren’t a quarter of the way to the Door. 

Adrenaline drop. 

If Felicity thought hers was bad she couldn’t even imagine what Oliver was experiencing having just looked into the eyes of a giant jaguar (and it was giant, it looked like it weighed as much as Oliver) as it sprang toward him, intent to rip out his throat.  

“I’ll watch over…Bagheera’s scary cousin while you do,” Oliver muttered and Felicity appreciated the attempt at humor. But still…

“Oliver, he’s out,” Felicity felt compelled to point out, mentally shaking herself out of the image of the cat landing on Oliver, claws and teeth out.  Maybe, it was her she was trying to convince.  “Like the best sleep of this cat’s life,  _out_.” 

Curtis and Caitlin were unparalleled at their jobs and their tranquillizers could be 100% trusted.  Felicity was more worried that the cat wouldn’t wake up at all than that it would wake up too soon.

But Oliver was intent on the jaguar, tranq gun  _still_  in hand.  “Really not willing to take the chance.”

Fine.   Whatever.  Felicity knew that there was no arguing with Oliver when he was like this and if it made him feel better to stare at the cat while she fixed the watch, she could live with that. 

But it was ridiculous how reluctant Felicity was to leave her position beside Oliver to find the helmet and screwdriver she had dropped when the jaguar had attacked.  Especially after she had just exhausted a good amount of energy to argue how safe the cat was. 

She made herself get up, gather her supplies, and… _do her damn job_.  It was never this hard to keep focused and motivated in the CAVE.  And they were safe as houses down there.  Usually, the urgency of a situation sharpened her concentration.  Of course, Oliver wasn’t in the CAVE to distract her.  

Despite her determination to focus on the damn watch, Felicity couldn’t help but settle next to Oliver to work on it, sitting cross-legged in the wet ground.  Hey, every other part of her was wet and filthy, why not her ass too?

It wasn’t until she was next to him that she was finally able to relax and focus, working her own brand of magic under the helmet.  It was strangely calming, the buttons and screws and wires.

She fell into  _the zone_  for she wasn’t sure how long, Felicity’s mind on the tech in her hand, her body attuned to the man next to her, comforted by his presence.  The wet and the cold and the discomfort faded away.

“Jackpot!” Felicity burst out, after god knows how long.  The watch flickered and a map with a blinking star appeared.  Thank freaking god!    “Well, not  _jackpot,_  really. I don’t have the uplink to my glasses.  Or to base or the internet in general… _but_  I have GPS and the Door’s location.”  Which was the most important thing.  Right?

Also, she had the time. That was something.  Was it seriously barely past 11am?  Like that had to be the  _next day._   Because Felicity could swear it had been a week since that quiet breakfast she shared with Oliver at camp.

Oliver groaned, looking less than thrilled.  “Except without the uplink to your glasses or the comms we’ll barely be able to hear each other with the helmets on and considering the wind and—”

“Stop right there!” Felicity interrupted.   She could see where this was going a mile away.  “Don’t even  _think_  about suggesting going without helmets.  After the crash we just had…”

Wincing at the reminder, a guilty look settled on Oliver’s face and he muttered, “I wasn’t going to suggest  _you_  not wear a helmet—”

Felicity was the one that growled this time.

It even shut Oliver up.  He sent her a displeased frown, before sighing and saying, “Without your glasses and the comms we’ll have to stop every 15 minutes to check the GPS and make sure we’re going in the right direction.”

Oliver looked more beaten than…she had ever seen him really.  In that moment, Felicity could really see the toll Russia had taken.  That  _she_  had taken.  Heaped on top of those years on the island…

Putting on her brightest smile, Felicity took a deep breath and launched into Sunshine mode.  It was the only way to fight Oliver’s dark mood.  “Well, you leaving off your helmet isn’t going to change any of that.  Besides, you survived on Lian Yu with none of this stuff.  If anyone is equipped to deal with this challenge it’s you.”  Because,  _duh_.  So true. 

And Oliver must have seen that because he turned his head and looked at Felicity from under his lashes, his lip quirking.   _Finally_.

“Besides, you have something here that you didn’t have on Lian Yu that will make it sooo much easier.”

Oliver gave her an ‘I’ll bite’ look, his shoulders relaxing.  Just a bit.  But enough.  “What’s that?”

Felicity was going to say Cisco’s super cool bow and arrows.  She swore she was.  “ _Me_.”

His eyes fell to the ground, but his smile…it just took over his whole face.  And it took Felicity’s breath away.  Shaking his head slightly, Oliver whispered, “Well then, I guess we can’t lose.”

“Nope,” Felicity whispered back.  It came out breathier than she intended. 

Though, to be honest, Felicity wasn’t at all sure it was true. Well…she did think that there was no one else in the world more capable of dealing with this situation than Oliver.  And her…well, she felt pretty confident in her ability to get their tech to work.  Eventually.

Turning his smile fully on her, Oliver asked, “Okay, so what’s next, Sunshine?”

And, oh wow, did that feel like… _something_.  Something really, really good.  Felicity might have said they could do this, but when Oliver looked at her with confidence shinning in his eyes, she  _actually_  believed it.  And for the first time in five years, she felt like that nickname made sense.  She’d forgotten, but it…felt good.  It felt  _right_.

And now that her emotions had settled somewhat, Felicity thought she might just have a solution to their navigation problem as well.  

“I have an idea.”   Smiling, Felicity reached into her bag and riffled through it, finally finding a zip-lock bag full of peanuts.  Thank you, Mama!Caitlin.

“Peanuts?” Oliver asked confused, but still smiling.  His eyes were bright again.  “I’m not sure how—”

“Cait always secretly packs a bag of peanuts for me to eat,” Felicity interrupted.  “Since they’re the only nuts I can have because—”

“Peanuts are legumes, not nuts,” Oliver finished, in the tone of someone reciting a long-memorized fact.  Because no one had  _ever_  been more protective and careful of her nut allergy than Oliver.

“Exactly,” Felicity grinned, feeling warm and tingly again.  Because the way Oliver fussed over and memorized all the facts pertaining to her allergy had always made her feel so… _loved_.  She swallowed, pressing on, “And you might not know this, but sometimes I forget to eat and need a little extra protein.  Here…”

Felicity held out the bag and waited for Oliver to put out his hand before pouring him half the bag.

“Much appreciated.”  Oliver smiled as he quickly devoured the handful of nuts.  He must be starving.  But he wouldn’t feel it.  Felicity knew he never did in these situations.  Then he would become ravenous when the mission was over.   “I have a ton of protein bars if you’re hungry.”

“I’m fine.  You should have the rest.”  Because, of course, all Oliver thought about was taking care of her.

Felicity swallowed, feeling the rain fall on her warm skin, knowing it meant she must be flushed and tried she to hide her blush behind a handful of nuts. 

“I didn’t pull it out because I’m hungry.”  Because she wasn’t.  “I just need the plastic bag to keep my cracked watch from being ruined in the rain,” Felicity explained, pouring the last of the nuts directly into her mouth.  She would have rather Oliver ate them, but didn’t really feel like having a battle of wills over a handful of peanuts.

She was actually pretty proud of her plan, though.  Felicity felt very MacGyver.  Also, the extra protein did help.  Her energy and focus felt better.

Felicity was cleaning out the salt and crumbs from the bag, when Oliver’s head jerked up and he leveled her with a concerned stare.  One that said he’d just realized something very  _not good_  and she wasn’t gonna lie, it kinda made her chest clench and her heart speed up. 

“What?” Felicity blurted, trying not overreact.  Her body wasn’t listening, though.

“You have your EpiPen with you, right?”  Oliver demanded and Felicity let out a breath, fighting a smile.  It was clear that he had just remembered it and she would bet money that he was pissed at himself for taking this long to think of it.

“In my bag,” Felicity assured him, resisting the urge to tease or make some snarky response about not being suicidal.  Oliver was too on edge for either.  Besides, it was kinda sweet.

“Let me have—”

This again.  Felicity remembered  _this_.  Oliver’s obsessive overprotectiveness could be a bit much and they didn’t have time for it.  She shook her head.  “I only have one.”

When they had been together Oliver always kept a spare.  He insisted on it.  Sometimes, Felicity wished he had never seen her have an allergic reaction.  He had been hypervigilant about it ever since. 

“It’s in the front pocket of my backpack if you need it,” Felicity told him, because it would be just dumb to have him carry her  _only_  EpiPen.  What if they got separated?

Felicity got the Jungle Green Arrow grunt for that, complete with petulant frown.  Lordy.  The mood swings.  She needed to distract him or he would perseverate on this. She just knew it.  Also, the mere thought of them being separated set her gut a churning.

“Can you get me the electrical tape from my tool kit?” Felicity asked, though it would be just as easy to get it herself.  But Oliver needed something to do besides stare at a sleeping cat and obsess over her EpiPen. 

Oliver seemed hesitant to leave his vigil, but eventually he did as she asked, one eye still on the jaguar.  With one last swipe over the inside of the zip-lock bag, Felicity placed the watch inside, zipped it closed, and pulled it tight. 

“Thank you,” she murmured as Oliver handed her the tape and offered her a hand to help her stand.  Felicity looked away, trying to hide her blush at the bolt of electricity that shot through her when his bare hand closed over hers. 

Quickly, she used the tape to attach the now covered watch to the handlebars.  

“Voila,” Felicity announced with a smile, pointedly ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.  “Now you can see the GPS while you drive.”

“As long as the bike starts,” Mr. Pessimism pointed out, because his brief foray into amiability couldn’t last it seemed.  Frowning,  _again_ , Oliver pressed the tranq gun into Felicity’s hand.  “Keep this trained on the jaguar while I check the bike.”

Looking at the gun and then the cat, Felicity screwed up her face and tried not to roll her eyes.  It was one thing to indulge Oliver’s need to stare at the jaguar, it was quite another to do it herself.  “Is this necessary?”

The poor kitty looked so peaceful.

Oliver shot her a look, one that would have withered many a younger agent.  Or anyone else for that matter.  Felicity did roll her eyes this time. 

“Placate me,” Oliver grunted, none too pleasantly.

That’s what Felicity  _thought_  she had been doing this entire time. 

“Fine,” she finally grumbled.  It wasn’t like she had anything more pressing to do now that the watch was secured.

So Felicity sat by the jaguar’s side and watched it sleep, but the tranq gun lay in at her lap.  She didn’t have the shoulder strength Oliver had to keep it pointed at the cat the whole time, even if she didn’t think it was a total waste of energy.

It wasn’t so bad actually.  When would Felicity ever have the chance to study an animal like this close up again?  The patterns on its pelt were fascinating.  She wanted to trace them.  See if his fur was soft or wiry.  She wanted to stroke his ears.  Would they feel like velvet?  She bet they would.

Oliver would have a  _heart attack_  in Felicity touched him.  That was the only reason she didn’t sit their petting the cat the whole time.  It wasn’t worth upsetting Oliver.  Probably. 

Felicity lost track of time for a while there.  The patterns were almost hypnotizing, but maybe that was the adrenaline crash…which was dangerous, because they weren’t out of jeopardy.  Far from it.  

But the longer Felicity sat and stared, the more she thought…why not?  Just a little stroke?  What could it hurt?  Felicity would never have an opportunity like this again. 

Casting a careful glance at Oliver’s back, she reached out with one finger and ran it over the cat’s back.  Oliver didn’t turn and…

His pelt was softener than she expected, not house cat soft, but not too far off.  The rain beaded off his coat, not really soaking into the fur.  Giving in, Felicity stroked her whole hand down his powerful back.

She had to bite her lip to keep the happy hum from slipping out as she carefully pet the beautiful animal, one eye fixed on Oliver’s back.  It was kind of amazing.  Felicity stroked his ear…yup, like velvet.  She wondered if he would like it if she scratched behind...

“I think I got it.”

Felicity’s hands sprang off the jaguar.  Her eyes darted around, as if to look to see if someone had caught her in the act.  Which was absurd.  They were the only ones there.

The engine revived and Felicity let out a breath of relief.  And maybe a little of disappointment.  Because they would now be leaving her new friend and…

Apparently, Felicity was _completely_ insane. 

Before she knew it, Oliver had repacked the bike and it looked…dirty, but functional. 

“Thank god,” Oliver breathed, reaching for the tranq gun in Felicity’s hand and replacing it with her helmet.  He was all business again.  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Felicity took one last look at the beautiful cat and bit her lip.  Just one more time.  She ran her hand over his short, wet fur.  Bye, kitty—

“ _Felicity_!” Oliver snapped.  And, yup, he was going to have a heart attack. 

She shot Oliver an innocent look and climbed to her feet before he could get himself even more worked up.  Felicity may have even, instinctively, given him one of those cute little looks that never failed to soften him. 

It worked.  It always did. Though Oliver rolled his eyes and shook his head, pretending that it didn’t.  But the cardiac event was everted and that was all that mattered. 

Putting on her helmet, Felicity swung her leg over the back of the bike and settled her arms around Oliver’s waist.  “Ready?”

Oliver nodded.  “Let’s try this again,” he said, before pulling on his own helmet.  Thank goodness.

And they were off.  Again. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Notes:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167350560267/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-12-kitty))
> 
> A note on my jaguar friend.  I was originally going to go with the traditional golden cat, but on reading up I found that there is a variant that is black, but the spots are still visible which I just found beautiful and I couldn’t not use it.  Present day Mayans consider the black jaguar to be a different, more deadly species, but they are not.  You can find lots of examples of a jaguar giving birth to one gold and one black kitten.
> 
> The creature known as the black panther, is really a leopard in Africa or a jaguar in the Americas.  They are very much endangered.  They are often born with blue eyes, but a fully-grown cat like we find in this story would  _not_  have a blue eyes.  The decision for my jaguar to have blue eyes was _not_  just based on it being pretty.
> 
> Speaking of such things, I want to address the (very valid) concern that the hurricane came out of nowhere.  Wouldn’t ARGUS be tracking such a thing?  Why, yes, it did come out of nowhere.  And, yes, ARGUS would have been tracking the weather very closely.  You can decide whether it was when HIVE entered the Mayan ruins and started a gun fight or when Oliver blew up the tombs that the little tropical storm became a hurricane.
> 
> So, if any of you thought that this story would be reality based, with no mystical elements….um, sorry?  The only thing I promised was a happy ending and you will definitely get that.
> 
> You can thank  **imusuallyobsessed**  for all the extra kitty petting (in the draft my betas got there were less, but she felt Felicity wouldn’t be able to resist as attracted as she is to beautiful and dangerous things.  ;-).  Also, thank  **Ireland1733**  and  **Fairytalehearts f** or all their hard work and support.
> 
> And thank you to everyone who comments and kudos.  You keep my going!
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	14. Chapter 13: Lacandon Rainforest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)
> 
> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158860960445/previously-on) **.**

_September 17, 2016_  
_18:01_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

 

The rest of the drive through the jungle was… _long_.

Excruciatingly so.

Oliver took it slow, which was not only smart, but very necessary.  The rough terrain and steady rain made their visibility less than stellar.  Plus, poor Oliver was navigating by himself.  With the comms not working, there was nothing Felicity could do but hang on.

Communicating at all was hard with the wind and the thick helmets.  Felicity had resorted to pinching Oliver when she needed to stop.  One just couldn’t ride on the back of a motorcycle for hours on end without stopping to drink or pee or just shake out a muscle cramp every once in a while.  Oliver might think he was super-human or a robot or  _whatever_ , but Felicity held no such delusions.  About either of them.

Of course, Oliver couldn’t feel it (or ignored her) when she pinched him over the Kevlar, so in desperation (Felicity  _really_  needed to pee), she had snuck her hand underneath his vest (and shirt because the sweat kinda had them glued together) and, well, that got  _both_  their attentions.

The way Oliver stiffened…well, not stiffened, like  _stiffened_ stiffened.  Actually… _maybe_  like that.   It was possible.  It wasn’t like Felicity could look.  Or even  _would have_  if she could.  Since that would have so been a violation.  Plus, she was seated behind him and couldn’t see either way… 

And, of course, she made sure her hand found the skin  _up,_ on his abdomen, and not  _down_  to…Felicity didn’t even _consider_ going down. That would have been  _completely_ inappropriate.  Wrong even.  Groping Oliver like that when he was all vulnerable…not that he was  _vulnerable_ per se...

There  _was_  even the possibility that Oliver might want Felicity to.  Grope him, that was. But  _that_  was a whole other can of worms.  

Not that Oliver resembled a worm.  Not in  _any_  way.  Nothing skinny or limp there.  Her memory on that was quite clear on  _that_  fact….

Oh.  Dear.   _Lord_!

What the _hell_ was wrong with her?

Give Felicity five minutes and her thoughts took off…to the  _gutter_!  It was ridiculous.  Her thought rambles were…well, she was just glad they weren’t  _out loud_  rambles, because this might be a new low for her.

But what was Felicity to do?  She was stuck, holding on to Oliver, wrapped around the estranged love of her life like a wet noodle.   _For hours on end_.  With nothing to do but contemplate the bike between her legs and man in her arms.

Which was actually…completely untrue.  There were lots of other things for her to think about.  Many, many  _important_  things.  None of them of a particularly sexual nature.  And Felicity tried.  _God_ , she tried.  But it was so hard.  Well, not  _that_  kind of hard…

Ugh!!!  There she went again!  Ugh ugh ugh!

And, throughout, Felicity couldn’t help but wonder at where Oliver’s thoughts were taking him.  Hers resembled a horny teenager, but…all indications were that his weren’t nearly as pleasant.

When Felicity first put her hand on his bare stomach (his beautiful, firm stomach with all its lickable ridges), Oliver’s whole body tensed up as if she had placed a white-hot poker on his skin.  She barely had to pinch him before he brought the bike to an abrupt stop. 

Felicity wasn’t sure what to make of  _that_  reaction.  Or over-reaction as it surely was.  But she spent plenty of time analyzing (or  _over_ -analyzing it).  Clearly, Oliver was as sensitive to her touch as she was to his.  Though, the response could have been anything from arousal to disgust.  Fear to longing.  Which was the truth was anyone’s guess.

Oliver’s blank expression at learning Felicity just needed to relieve herself held no clues.  But, after that, he didn’t react as dramatically to her touch or even her soft pinches.  They had to stop occasionally for him to get his bearings anyway.  Occasionally, she forced him to eat and drink, which was just the weirdest role reversal…

But…maybe not.  Felicity seemed to remember this being more the norm all those years ago.  Funny, all the small things she had forgotten, or thought she had forgotten, that now came rushing back.  It was also amazing all the  _thinking_  one could get done when a ride that may have taken 2-3 hours on a bike of this caliber (less on the open road) tripled.

Felicity knew she couldn’t be the only one whose mind was racing during the prolonged trip.  With each passing hour, she could feel Oliver’s tension rise.  It was impossible not to feel each and every muscle, because after about an hour, Felicity gave up all pretense of a personal bubble and just collapsed onto his back, exhausted.

Was Oliver worrying about their safety?  About finding shelter?  Completing the mission?   The storm?  There was so much _…too_ much to worry about.  And he was  _worried_ , that Felicity was certain of.  Actually, she would bet money that he was flat out brooding.

And chief among the topics for him to brood on…one of the times they stopped to eat, Oliver had asked Felicity to fill him in on what happen with the team and…

God, she couldn’t blame Oliver for worrying.  Felicity couldn’t let  _herself_  think about the team and how they left them.  Three of their own captured and one bleeding out with a hurricane approaching…

If Felicity let herself think about it, when there was absolutely  _nothing_  she could do about it, she doubted she would be able to function.  All she could do was trust her team to pull off a miracle like they had done a million times before.  To remind herself that they were the _best_.  The best of the best.  ARGUS elite.  Plus, Lyla and Cisco had their backs and reinforcements were on the way. 

They would be  _fine_.  Felicity had no choice but believe that and put it out of her mind.  She had said the same to Oliver, but that didn’t mean he had taking her advice. The idiot man probably thought he deserved his stupid dark thoughts, blamed himself for bringing Roy into this or some such nonsense.

But speaking of self-flagellation (which Oliver had a gold-metal in, BTW), Felicity couldn’t help but wonder if one of the things Oliver was brooding about was them. 

_Them_  them.  Oliver and Felicity  _them_.

Was there some small part of their loooong journey where Oliver mind wandered to Felicity pressed against him and…remembered?  Contemplated?  Dreamed?  Maybe even imagined a possible future for them?

Except ( _hopefully_ ) those were happy thoughts and Felicity felt the negatives vibes coming from Oliver in waves.  So…the last thing she wanted was him thinking about her, because if he _was_ he was probably counting all the ways she had hurt him over the last years.  And, god, that would suck…

Okay.  No.  Oliver, most likely, had his head on the mission, because unlike Felicity,  _he_  was a professional. 

It wasn’t like Felicity didn’t have more productive things to think about.  Like everything that they found in the Temple of the Sun, for example.  Or trying to figure out if any of it would help them get through the Door once they found it. 

But just as Felicity got herself nice and focused on the Temple of the Sun she would remember how sweet Oliver had been while they were there and how helpful and caring and smart and wonderful and how much she missed him, but didn’t deserve him…

And  _that_  was why Felicity sucked at being ARGUS Agent _._

What was  _far_  more important (she kept reminding herself) was getting to the Door.  Getting _through_ the Door actually, since with every passing moment shelter became more and more of a priority. 

Maybe some of the jewelry Oliver had taken was actually a key of some sort?  The ring perhaps?   God, Felicity hoped so.

Originally, Felicity had planned to get to the Door, lay out all her photographs and work through the translations.  Meanwhile, her teammates (all seven of them) could excavate the rest of the Door and make camp, but now…now it was looking like she would be studying the Door in the middle of a hurricane, while Oliver…did everything else. 

Crap, this sucked.

Then there were the butterfly hands.  Somehow,  _that_  felt important.  How, Felicity had no clue but…maybe it was time to listen to these  _intuitions_ she was having.  She needed something since It wasn’t like she could rely on her tech.

Though as bad as the storm was getting, maybe they would have to just find  _any_  shelter they could.  Then Felicity would have plenty of time to examine the carvings on her tablet and the hands… _frak_ , had she gotten a picture of the corpses’ hands? 

She hadn’t.  Damn.  Damn.  Damn.  It had all happened so fast and the corpses were so creepy and Oliver had already broken their fingers…Felicity shuddered at the thought. 

She’d just have to work with what she had.  Likely, she had the length of the hurricane to study everything, depending on how big a shelter they found.  Which couldn’t possibly be  _that_  big. 

Felicity and Oliver.  Alone.  In a tiny shelter.  For the duration of the hurricane. 

It would likely be at least twenty-four hours that they would be in there together.

Her and Oliver. 

Oliver and Felicity. 

Alone. 

Together. 

In a tiny space.

For the duration of the hurricane.

And every time Felicity’s thoughts went  _there_ …and, unfortunately, they went there _repeatedly_ … _every time,_  her brain jumped the tracks.  Careening off to crazy town. 

Felicity could argue it was the exhaustion.  The cramped muscles.  The adrenaline drop.  But none of that explained how the idea of being stuck with Oliver in…a cave…or under some tree roots…or  _anywhere_ …

Well...it made Felicity’s body hum.

It didn’t even make her anxious.  Not too badly, anyway.  Which was weird.  Though maybe Felicity was too tired to panic.  But she didn’t seem to be too tired to feel  _anticipation_.

Or, maybe, Felicity had just become resigned to the situation. 

This was it.  She was going to be alone with Oliver for god only knows how long.  She was still in love with him. That was undeniable.  And…Felicity might not know exactly what he felt for her, she imagined it was quite complex after everything but, still, he felt  _something_.  And that something wasn’t small.

So…Felicity had to tell him.  Had to tell Oliver  _everything_.  Before anything else happened between them. 

While they were alone. 

In a small space. 

For the duration of a hurricane.

It wasn’t fair for Felicity to keep her reasons for leaving from him any longer.  It hadn’t been fair of her in the first place.  She was well aware of that and completely prepared for Oliver to echo that sentiment.  But the longer she kept it from him now, the  _more_  wrong it felt.

Of course, if she did it right it was going to be a long conversation.  Felicity couldn’t afford not to do it right.  And their lives were in danger about two dozen ways right now.  It wasn’t as if she could be like, ‘Hey, while you check the GPS and have a drink of water could I quickly explain why I totally abandoned you five years ago after the most horrible experience of either of our lives?’

Yeah.  No.

But Felicity had to  _find_  the time.  The weight of this secret was starting to be unbearable.  There had to be moment after they found shelter when she could take to explain this. 

And if he asked, she would tell him.  Not a piece, the  _whole_  story.  Felicity promised herself that.  She refused to lie to Oliver ever again.  She was tired of snowballs that turned to avalanches and holes that became canyons.

But Felicity…god, she was  _terrified_  of Oliver’s response.  

And he wouldn’t be able to leave if he was…angry…or disgusted…or  _anything_.  They were stuck together.  They would have to deal with it, with each other.  One way or another.  Once the cat (or jaguar as this case may be) was out of the bag, they had to deal with that damn cat. 

Alone.  In a tiny space.  For the duration of the hurricane.

But putting off the conversation wouldn’t do anything but increase Oliver’s sense of betrayal.  And now that Felicity was actually allowing herself to contemplate a positive outcome…

Her best option was to bite the bullet and find the first quiet moment to tell him.  That way Felicity, at least, had some measure of control over how it all went down.

If she were honest with herself, Felicity would admit she spent the majority of the trip rehearsing ways to tell Oliver about her  _condition_  and why she had done all the (stupid) things she had done.

It was easier than it had been on the plane, when Felicity had been frozen with guilt and fear at the mere idea of seeing Oliver again.  Now that they had spent time together, that she had seen how… _natural_  it all felt, remembered how natural it had  _always_  been between them…

Felicity now knew this would come naturally too.  It would be hard.  She would have to face some difficult truths and some even more difficult emotions, but she was starting to actually believe she was strong enough to get through it.  Besides, she knew as soon as the flood gates were open…they’d be  _open_.  The hard part would be making sure it didn’t drown them both in the process. 

The range of possible responses from Oliver did… _concern_  her.  So Felicity practiced ways to calm him down, to help him understand.  All the many ways she could bring him around.

But perhaps the most dangerous thoughts Felicity had were the ones where she imagined Oliver  _did_  understand.  That he forgave her.   Then…

Then Felicity imagined Oliver kissing her, imagined his tongue and his hands, she…she remembered it all like it was yesterday.  As if the time they spent apart was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing.  It was five endless,  _horrible_  years.  For both of them.  And with Oliver here now, Felicity could see just how empty her life had been.  Even if they could never go back to being more than friends and partners, life without him…she never wanted to go back there.

Sometimes, exhaustion set in and Felicity would close her eyes.   She would drift off, leaning against Oliver’s back and then…then her thoughts would go to a  _very_  dangerous place.  

A place where Felicity and Oliver were naked and tangled together amongst the roots of some monster tree, the rain and winds raging around them as they made their own heat…

Felicity wondered how she was going to survive the disappointment when it all went very, _very_ differently.

But now, Felicity knew she would.  Survive.  She’d survived this far.  She would survive this too and it wasn’t fair of her to keep anything from Oliver that could give him even a small measure of peace.  The most important message she needed to convey was that none of this was his fault.  If she did her job right, Oliver would get the closure he deserved, if nothing else. 

And then maybe…if he  _couldn’t_  forgive her, Oliver could at least move on.  Be happy.  Even if it wasn’t with Felicity.

It was a knife to her stomach.  The mere thought of him with someone else was an enormous sword followed by a sledge hammer.  A blow so harsh it took Felicity’s breath away, but if after everything, that was what Oliver wanted, then…then she would have to take some satisfaction in Oliver being happy.  And maybe she could find some closure in that as well.

But the last thing Felicity wanted was  _closure_.  And if…just maybe there was a small chance they could work through it all.  If Oliver could forgive her…she would do  _anything_.  All she wanted was the chance to start over, to try again.

And for the first time in… _ever_ really, Felicity allowed herself to think about other options.  About what it would mean if they were, somehow, allowed a second chance at a life together. 

A future.

A marriage.

 A family.

Adoption.  Surrogacy.  Oliver could have a child of his own even if Felicity couldn’t.  Maybe she  _hated_  the idea of another woman carrying his child, but…wouldn’t it be worth it?  Were any of these options really  _that_  bad?  She really should have considered them more carefully years ago.   _With_  Oliver.  Instead of pushing him away.

Because in the end, it would be  _their_  child? Did the biology matter that much?  As long as it made Oliver happy.  Anything was better than a life without him.  And Felicity wanted a child. so much she hadn’t been able to bear thinking about it.  Doing so now…the emotions it stirred up were overwhelming.

Felicity was so lost in thought that she startled when the bike came to a stop.  She shook herself out of her daze and removed the stuffy helmet, letting the rain jar her back into full consciousness before asking, “You need a break?”

Oliver lifted off his helmet and his short hair was quickly soaked.  Felicity was sure that what was left of her ponytail was quickly succumbing to the same fate.  The only problem was that she was sure she resembled a drowned rat, whereas Oliver looked extra attractive, the droplets clinging to his hair and face making him especially lickable…

Yeah, those day dreams were  _super_  dangerous. 

Letting out a sound that was half-grunt, half-sigh, Oliver twisted to look at her over his shoulder.   “The watch says we’re here.” 

But the expression on Oliver’s face…he didn’t look pleased.  Or relieved.  As he should have because they were finally at the place they had been _frantically running_ to (metaphorically, of course) all day. 

And Oliver’s frown only deepened as he looked around.

Felicity was beginning to understand why, because…this little piece of the jungle, it looked no different than any other spot they had stopped at.

She didn’t know what she had expected.  She knew ARGUS camouflaged the Door so it wouldn’t be obvious but…Felicity had expected to see something, _anything_.  Otherwise, wouldn’t they have left them some clue as to where to look?  It was pretty damn stupid to hide it so well their own agents couldn’t find it.  What good was that gonna do?

No, ARGUS wasn’t stupid.  There  _had_  to be a sign, but all that was  _here_  was uneven ground and ferns, trees and shrubs, moss covered rocks and plant covered hills.   _Frak_.  What if the watch really was well and truly broken and this last half day had been nothing but a wild goose chase?

A half day didn’t seem like much, but with both HIVE and a hurricane chasing them…the lost time could easily mean their death.

Okay, not going there.  Felicity put a stop to her thought spiral before her heart and her breathing could catch on and start to pick up…for like the  _thousandth_  time that day.  She was tired of panicking.  For real  _and_  imagined threats.

“Now what?” Felicity asked, trying to keep her long list of worries on the inside.  The furrow in Oliver’s brow told her he had enough of his own.

“Fuck if I know,” was Oliver’s grunted response and his use of foul language was proof enough of how on edge he was.  Oh, he could swear like a sailor with the guys, but he always controlled himself with Felicity.  His snooty upbringing with its silly sexist rules were hard to fight.   _God_ , he must be exhausted.

Felicity swallowed.  It was time to find her inner Sunshine.  If there was ever a time Oliver needed it, it was now.

Stretching, Felicity swung herself off the bike, only to have her wobbly legs buckle.  She had to grab Oliver’s arm to keep upright, which really had  _not_  been part of the plan. 

Not that Felicity  _had_  a plan.  A plan would probably be good though.  She should get herself one of those.

“Careful,” Oliver warned, his arm shooting out to steady her, but neither his words nor his hands were as gentle as they had been earlier in the day.

There were a million reasonable explanations for this, but still, it flustered her and Felicity started to babble, “Sorry, my legs were kinda asleep and—”

“Cramped, I’m sure,” Oliver muttered, his tone was curt and distracted, but his arm curved around Felicity’s waist to hold her up. 

And, even though Oliver’s muscles were hard and tense (which very well may have been from the hours on the bike), Felicity’s skin started tingling and butterflies settled in her stomach.  It was absurd, really.  He wasn’t touching anything but Kevlar.

But Felicity wound her right arm around his shoulders and leaned into him.  Because  _this_  was the path she had chosen in these last long hours.  To give in.  To move _toward_ Oliver, not away.  To face the past and fight for them.  Whatever the cost.

After, of course, they saw to the little matter of survival.  Leaning over, Felicity focused on the watch taped to the handlebars.  She would swear she saw Oliver gulp and that his hand convulsed just a smidge at her waist.  The stomach butterflies…they were easier to ignore than the way her nipples were now scrapping against the layers of sweat soaked shirt and Kevlar.

Focus, idiot!  This was  _not_  the time to get lost in her body’s sexual reawakening.

If Felicity was lucky,  _that_  would come later.

Okay,  _enough_!  She was getting way ahead of herself.  Felicity’s hand tightened on Oliver’s shoulders (really not liking how tense he was) and she fought the need to rub his neck in a very  _un_ platonic way.

Instead, Felicity narrowed her eyes and focused on the watch.  “It’s not all that precise, is it?” she muttered, then reaching over she enlarged the screen and, yup… 

“It says we are right at the Door.”  Felicity barely stopped herself from sighing (Sunshine wouldn’t sigh) and looked around again.  Seriously?  There was  _no_ other sign?

“ _Christ_ ,” Oliver spit out, his head falling back and landing on her arm.

Felicity, again, had to fight the urge to massage his neck, to run her nails over his scalp in the way he liked.  That always relaxed him.  But they were so not there yet.  She didn’t have the right to dole out those kind of touches, even if they were just meant in comfort.

Not until she told Oliver the truth at the very least.  And  _then_ …Felicity may never have the right again.  Couldn’t forget that it was a maybe never.  God, that would suck.

“Tell me this hasn’t been a wild goose hunt,” Oliver muttered, his eyes still closed as he rolled his head on his shoulders, clearly trying to stretch out the stiffness (and not to stroke his hair against her arm). 

But, yeah, that was exactly what Felicity was afraid of as well.  But  _Sunshine…_ she said, “The basic settings probably just aren’t as precise and we know that ARGUS sorta kinda hid the Door so…it’s gotta be around here somewhere.” 

Felicity leaned over again and pulled the watch off the handlebars, trying to ignore how her chest brushed against Oliver’s.  Not that she could feel much.  Stupid Kevlar.

Oliver (unfortunately) didn’t respond to the contact.  He just stared straight ahead and ran his fingers through his wet hair, pulling on the short strands.  “Well, the storm is getting worse and it will be dark soon.  We don’t have time to hunt for the Door now.  We need to find shelter.  ASAP.”

The word ‘shelter’ sent a shock of arousal zinging through Felicity’s body.  How sad was  _that_? 

“Cisco said he was sending us the coordinates to possible shelters near the Door,” Felicity told him, because none of it was going to matter if they couldn’t  _find_  shelter ( _not_  because she was eager to be alone with Oliver).

“Great.  Pull it up.” 

Oliver sounded tired.  Bone-deep tired.  He stood and stretched, pulling away from her as he got off the opposite side of the bike.

It left Felicity struggling to focus on the watch while her brain misfired with the overload of conflicting stimuli from all the pretty  _and_  the feeling that he was pulling away  _from her_ …which was obviously a gross overreaction but it felt…

“Oh… _frak_.”

Oliver groaned.  “What now?”

Crap.  Felicity didn’t even want to tell him.  She shouldn’t have brought up the Cisco thing in the first place.  Not until she had known for sure.  Blowing out a breath, she bit the bullet and said, “Well…I’m not sure if Cisco shut down the comms before the transmission went through or it was lost in the reboot but—”

“Let me guess, no shelter locations.” Oliver rubbed his eyes, his jaw tight.  He didn’t look surprised.  Why would he?  At this point, the only thing surprising would be if something went right.  “Is there any information that hunk of junk  _can_  give us?”

Felicity tried not to bristle.  It wasn’t the watch’s fault it got smashed in the jungle.  It was doing the best it could.  But she didn’t want to insinuate that it was Oliver’s fault for crashing so…she chewed on her lower lip and offered, “It’s 18:11?”

“And it’s already getting dark.” Oliver’s hands settled on his hips and he stared up at the sky, the rain pounding his face.  “The storms getting bad.”

Oliver’s dark expression was more upsetting than the situation.  They needed a plan, an idea, any….

“Oh!  Oh!  My tablet!” Felicity burst out…cause  _duh_!  “Why didn’t I think of that before?  That still works and its waterproof.”

Oliver was pulling off the seat and handing her her bag before Felicity even finished her sentence.  She also noticed how he immediately started to strap on his quiver.  Almost on reflex.

As soon as Felicity had her tablet in hand, she immediately felt calmer, more grounded.  She imagined this was exactly the way Oliver felt about his quiver and bow.  It was a relief, a security blanket, a—except…  “ _Frak_.”

“I’m beginning to hate that word,” Jungle Green Arrow grunted, his eyes pressing closed as if he was afraid of what she was going to say next. 

Wrinkling her nose, Felicity ignored the dig and confessed in a rush, “I shut down the satellite uplink after I took the pictures so no one could access them.  They weren’t received initially and now we’re cut off from ARGUS so—”

“So, no shelter.” This time Oliver sounded resigned.  She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. 

“No,” Felicity winced as she said it.

There was a pause and the only sound for several minutes was the rain and the wind, while Felicity wracked her brain—

“Fuck!”  Oliver threw his helmet in a burst of rage that made Felicity jump.

Okay.  This was…really… _not_  good.  Felicity didn’t know why Oliver was reacting this…well, extreme-ly.  Sure, lots of bad stuff had happened but no one was dead or dying…well, maybe Roy…but  _maybe_   _not_.   Oliver just seemed much more… _angry_ than the situation warranted.  Or then he normally would be or… _something_.   It left Felicity feeling lost and confused.  There was something very bad happening in his head.

She needed to do something.  Like now. The problem was if Felicity didn’t know what this bad thing was, how was she supposed to fix it?

Dammit.  Taking a breath, Felicity tried, “It’s okay.  We’ll just—”

“It’s  _not_  okay, Felicity!” The look on Oliver’s face was terrifying.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him like this.  “We’re in the middle of the fucking jungle!  A hundred miles from civilization with a bike whose gas supply is  _not_  unlimited, with no way to contact help, and a _hurricane_ hours away.  We don’t have any usable tech—”

“That’s not  _completely_  true—”

“Felicity, we have no idea how to get out of this.”  Oliver’s eyes were wild in the dim light.  “Fuck the mission!  I’m not sure how long I’m going to be able to keep you  _alive_ , never mind get you home.”

And that was the crux of things, wasn’t it?  All Oliver cared about was making sure she was safe.  The way he had failed all those years ago.  And all Felicity cared about was him being happy.  Weren’t they a self-destructive pair?

“Oliver, this is far from hopeless.” Felicity pleaded.  If this freak out was just over keeping her safe…  “I’m  _fine_ —”

Oliver scoffed.

“I  _am_ ,” Felicity bristled, because physically she was and she was not in the mood for Oliver to criticize her mental state.  Even if it was fair.

“You have a  _concussion_ , Felicity.  Because  _I_  lost control of the damn bike and crashed you into the fucking ground, smashing our most important tech in the process.”

Was he still brooding about  _that_?  Well, at least it explained some of his melt-down.  Oliver didn’t melt down often, almost never actually, which made this extra scary.  As was the fact that Felicity still felt like she was missing something.  Maybe he wasn’t as together after Russia and Tikal as he seemed.

“One fucking thing,” Oliver muttered, under his breath, quiet enough that Felicity had to strain to hear.  “One fucking job.  Get you to the Door safely and I couldn’t—”

Felicity couldn’t listen to any more. “I’m  _perfectly_  fine,” she repeated, bordering on using her loud voice.  But she schooled her features and tried to stay as calm as possible.  “I had on a helmet and you are  _not_  to blame.  There are plenty of things to blame and you are  _not_  one of them.  The jaguar and the storm and HIVE and the jungle—”

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ —”

“Are  _all_  more to blame than  _you_!” Felicity raised her voice above his protests, continuing fiercely, “But if you want to start spreading blame around, I’m sure we would be doing a _lot_ better if my mental state—”

“That’s ridiculous!” Oliver even rolled his eyes at her.

And Felicity really wished that were true.  “No more so than blaming yourself for that crash!  Or anything  _else_  that happened today.  You have done  _everything_  right.”  Oliver had.   Unlike her.  It was insane for him to be trying to find fault in his own actions.  “This is just…really terrible luck.”

Oliver burst out with a clearly involuntarily laugh.  “This is the  _mother_  of bad luck.”

Tell her about it.  Felicity was starting to wonder if they  _were_  cursed.  Maybe desecrating those tombs…no, she didn’t believe in such things.  Besides, saying  _that_  would just lend credence Oliver’s his-fault mentality.  “We’re still alive and healthy—”

“Pff—”

“I’m  _perfectly_  healthy.  And we are  _going_  to find Kin Cuudad.  I know it.”  And she did.  Felicity was  _certain_  of it.  For the first time, she had no doubt.  “We just have to, you know, get through this little hurricane.  Which on the upside, should totally slow down HIVE.”

The bastard rolled his eyes at her.  Again.  Oliver was determined to think the worst.  “With our luck—”

_Enough_  of the pessimism.  “And this tech  _absolutely_  works.  Just because it doesn’t uplink to the satellite, doesn’t mean it’s worthless.  The maps and GPS still work.  That’s on a separate system,” Felicity argued.  It had  _better_  work, because if Oliver didn’t snap out of this soon, she was going to start throwing things.  At  _him_.  “I can try and run a similar program to what Cisco did and help us find shelter.”

Where earlier Oliver might have commented on her optimism, or teased her about it, this time all she got was his Jungle Green Arrow grunt.  Felicity was starting to hate that noise.  She wanted her Oliver from this morning back.  She could handle all the rest…if she could just have  _him_  back.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity reached into her bag for a glow ball and found her stash of protein bars.  There was an absurd amount of them (she didn’t put it past her friends to each, separately, add a stash to her pack when she wasn’t looking), but thank god for it now. 

“Here.  Eat something.” Felicity threw one to Oliver and maybe her tone was a bit on the bossy side, but he was totally pushing her buttons.  She just hoped a little sugar and protein would help his state of mind.  Then maybe with a little rest…

“Thanks,” Oliver muttered.  He caught the bar without even looking at her.  God only knew how he did that.  Like he had eyes in back of his head.  It was a weird combination of sexy and creepy.

Oliver’s eyes were back to scanning the jungle, searching, strategizing…Felicity  _hoped_.  As long as he wasn’t brooding.  They didn’t have time for broody Oliver and her Sunshine reserve was starting to run low.  He did eat though, so that was something.

Felicity took a seat on a small hill (her legs were still somewhat wobbly), turning on the glow ball as she set to work on her tablet.  “The GPS works on a separate wavelength so we should be able to get a lock on the Door and—”

Oliver looked up at the sky, then back at Felicity. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to even look for the Door with the storm.  Shelter has to be our first priority.  What about those infra-red features on your glasses…?”

Felicity was afraid to even tell him.  She wrinkled her nose.  “I’m sure I can get my glasses to link with my tablet instead if my watch… _eventually_.”  The last word was kinda small.  She just wished she could give Oliver better news.

“Right.  Well, I don’t think  _eventually_  will help us much  _now_.”  Oliver let out another low growly sound and pulled at his hair.  Frak.  “I’m going to search for shelter.  You stay  _right_  here.  Don’t move.”

Felicity might have argued, just on principle, if she didn’t think  _right here_ was the most productive place for her to be.   _And_  if she didn’t think Oliver was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  She knew what those felt like (intimately) and had the utmost sympathy for him.  In fact, she was surprised she was handling this so well, all things considered.  Though maybe her subconscious was just well aware that only one of them could melt down at a time.

Also, if Oliver could find them shelter it would probably do a lot for his state of mind…and, well, save their lives.  Felicity reached into her bag and pulled out her second glow ball, holding it out to him.  “Here, take this.”

Oliver stepped closer, his hand closing over the ball, but then…he kind of froze. 

At first, Felicity thought it was because their hands touched, which did cause little prickles of sensation to skitter up her arm, but considering they had just been pressed together for hours—

“Felicity?”  Oliver’s head tipped to the side.  “Did you bring a green tarp with you?”

“Tarp?  What…?”  Felicity narrowed her eyes.  Then she followed Oliver’s gaze.  He was staring at the ground next to her hip, now illuminated by the bright light from Curtis’ devise. 

Oliver crouched down and brushed aside a clump of vines revealing a dark green tarp.  Felicity’s heart started to beat faster.  A crazy sort of elation came over her.  This was it.  She just knew it.   This was  _it_!

“Oh.  My.  God!”  Scrambling to help him, Felicity swiped away the layers of dirt and plant life that covered the heavy covering. 

ARGUS had done a great job.  If one didn’t know where to search, they would have looked right past this.  Which probably meant they should have given them a  _fricken clue_ where to look!  Still, Felicity felt foolish for not searching for something like this right away. But…hurricane…it was a better excuse than most. 

Before she knew it, Oliver had found the edge of the tarp and was pulling it back.  As soon as she saw limestone, Felicity couldn’t help but let out a squeal of pure joy.  Oliver paused and threw her a look that was one part incredulous, two parts amused, and Felicity’s joy couldn’t help but increase even more.   Hopefully, this success would bring back her hopeful Oliver.

When the tarp was finally rolled up to the side and Felicity could see the entire Door…

Dear god it was  _the Door_!   _The Door to Kin Cuudad_!  It didn’t even seem real.

But it was.

I  _was_  real.  Felicity placed her hands on the rough limestone just to make sure.  Oh wow.  Oh wow oh wow.

Felicity was covered in mud and sweat and grass.  Soaking wet and exhausted.  Her muscles sore and cramped.  

And she just stood there and laughed for the sheer joy of it. 

“We  _did_  it!  I can’t believe we’re here.”  Felicity turned her (she was sure) beaming smile on Oliver, wanting to share this amazing moment with him.  Only him.  “See, I _told_ you our luck wasn’t all bad!”

Oliver gave her a small half-smile in the glow of Curtis’ device.  With his hands on his hips, dripping wet and filthy, he was still unfairly beautiful. 

“Guess not,” Oliver conceded, looking at least somewhat more centered.  Though, not nearly as ecstatic as he should be.  “But unless you have an idea of how to get  _through it_  right away, shelter is still the priority.”

And with that, Oliver somehow found a way to throw a bucket if cold water on someone who was already dripping wet.  Felicity shook her head, frowning as she fought the urge to stick out her tongue at him.

“I have more explosive arrows,” Oliver suggested, one eyebrow raised.

He was kidding, of course.  At least, Felicity hoped so.  She shot Oliver a death glare just in case.  No more destroying priceless artifacts and almost getting himself killed in the process.  They had enough bad karma.  Maybe she should tell him her ridiculous theory about the curse, just so he would stop considering it.

Oliver let out a deep sigh and looked back at the quickly darkening jungle.  “Back to plan ‘A’ it is.  You try to figure out what you can here.  I’ll search for shelter.  I won’t be far.  Yell if you need me.”

Felicity wanted to protest, mostly because she hated the idea of being separated, even for a short time.  And there was a part of her that felt like they should be celebrating or…something.

But really, everything Oliver said was completely logical.  Unless Felicity could open this Door in the next hour, finding it did them little good when it came to the storm.  Besides, with the darkening skies and the glow ball in his pocket, she could see him from a distance.  Hopefully.

“Just don’t go too far,” Felicity called after him, not even trying to hide her anxiety.  She wanted Oliver close and she wasn’t afraid to admit it.

Oliver nodded.  She watched until he disappeared into the jungle, the light trailing behind and letting her know his direction.  Then finally, Felicity was able to put her full focus on the Door.  As her whole being seemed to want to do.

Falling to her knees, Felicity ran her fingers over the grooves created by the intricate carvings.  She had translated much of this in the Safe House back on the coast, but…the photo didn’t do justice to the dimensions and the details.  The real thing was… _incredible_.

The glow ball gave her plenty of light and the rain washed away any lingering dirt or dust.  Soon Felicity didn’t even feel the steady fall, though she had to stop and wipe off her glasses periodically.

She really wished she had her contacts…but no, she wouldn’t be able to change them in the field and that would just  _suck_.  Maybe Felicity should just get over her fear of needles and get that eye surgery ARGUS offered.  For a (supposedly) world class ARGUS Field Agent, she really did have a lot of fears. 

Felicity’s finger traced the large carving of Kinich Ahau, the Mayan Sun God.  She bet he wasn’t afraid of anything.  Though why should he, being a god and all?  Not to mention he was flanked by two super-scary jaguar companions. 

She shivered as she remembered the beautiful real-life version that had almost killed them only hours before.  Who they left sleeping and defenseless on the jungle floor.  Felicity really hoped he was okay.  She’d feel terrible if the jaguar was attacked by another animal because they had drugged him.

Which was absurd and Oliver would  _so_  yell at her for even thinking it…maybe Felicity was a little too tenderhearted for this business.  It had broken her rather easily.

Okay…moving on. 

Below the Sun God was that strange sun.  And now that Felicity saw it up close…it looked even stranger, with weird rays, rounded at the tip…but straight. 

It reminded her of something. 

Felicity shook her head.  She just…she couldn’t think of what.  Dammit.  Well, it would come to her, she was sure.  Her eyes drifted down and wow.  Oh wow. 

She dug into the earth with her bare hands, pushing dirt and mud away from the final carving (at least, she assumed it was the last, who knew what was still buried), because the visible part was familiar.   _So_  very familiar. 

As in it was the exact same carving of the Daughter of the Sun and Warrior King as the slab from the Temple of the Sun.

Her hands were sore and her nails caked with mud by the time she was able to clear it…but _yes_.  Yes, it was  _exactly_  the same scene. 

Well, there was no gold.  No color of any kind.  No moonstone.  But in all other ways it was the same. 

What could this mean?  Did it help them in any way?  It just  _had_  to be important.  It _felt_ important.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity wished she could turn to Oliver and share this discovery with him.  Ask what he thought.  Get his input.  It felt like all the pieces were there, she was just too close to them to see how they connected. 

Sighing, Felicity held up her hands and let the rain wash away the mud.   The dirty water ran along the curved groves of the odd sun…

The sun with the curved indentations for the rays…

Oh.   _Ohhhh_.

Holding her breath, Felicity spread her hands into the butterfly position the way she had in the Temple of the Sun and…palms down…and oh oh oh…they were  _hand prints_!

Felicity fit her fingers into the grooves and…oh wow… _wow_!  What was more, her hands  _fit_! Like  _perfectly_ fit!

Except there were two larger hand prints at an angle to hers and—

“Oliver!   _Oliver_!”

Immediately, Felicity heard rustling over the noise of the pounding rain and, looking over her shoulder, she saw the light quickly moving back towards her.  When Oliver appeared, only seconds later, it was with an arrow notched in his raised bow and his eyes alert, seeking her out.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

“Yeah, yeah,” Felicity waved a hand dismissively.  There was no time for that.  She could soothe Oliver’s ruffled feathers later.  Her heart was pounding and her excitement building to a fever pitch.  “Come here!  I need to show you something.”

Oliver’s bow fell and his jaw clenched.  In any other circumstances, she may have even winced at his dark glare.  “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ , I thought you were—”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you,” Felicity interrupted quickly, trying to placate him so he would get  _the hell over here_.  Because seriously?!  Didn’t he get how important this was?  “Come on!”  She waved him over frantically.  Could he just move!  She had to know if his hands fit.  Like… _now_.

Grunting, (‘cause he just looooved grunting) Oliver stomped over, “Fe-li-ci-ty, we do _not_ have time for more discoveries.  If we don’t have shelter when—”

“Look!”

His grumbling was really starting to get on Felicity’s nerves.  Oliver needed to  _stop_  and listen to her.   

“See how my hands fit into this sun shape!  It’s the same configuration as the slab!  And see here, it’s the same scene below and the corpses—”

“ _Felicity_ …” Oliver was almost whining now, but he came to stand over her.  Thankfully.  “It’s amazing  _but_ —”

She didn’t even bother pausing to let him complain.  Felicity just reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him down to his knees next to her.   “Just  _come here_  and put your hands in the other groves.”

“Felicity, I need to—”

“ _Please_ , Oliver.  It’s important.”

Felicity didn’t know how she knew, but she did.  More important than…well, she just knew this is what they  _had to do._ In  _this_  moment.  Right  _now_.  Besides, if it was a bust how much time were they really wasting?

The next sound Oliver made was half-grunt, half-whine, but when his head fell forward, Felicity knew she’d won.

“Here, come behind me,” Felicity instructed, dropping Oliver’s wrist and giving him a little shove toward the position she wanted him in.

Oliver was stiff as a statue.  “Is this really necessary?”

Felicity wasn’t sure if Oliver meant taking a break from the shelter search to help her or the fact that he would be effectively embracing her from behind.   But he did as she asked.  Stiffly, but he did it. 

Once he was behind her, Oliver hesitated.  He didn’t immediately reach around her, so Felicity grabbed his hands and pulled them into place, settling his fingers into the larger grooves, before placing her hands next to his.

It was like when they held their hands together over the slab, only it felt even more intimate.  Yet Felicity felt none of the panic she had the last time.  But…the almost kiss…the anxiety attack…was that why Oliver was so rigid?  Was he worried it would happen again?

Felicity didn’t have time to analyze that, because…

“Look,” Felicity breathed, excitement and awe bubbling up like champagne.  “They fit perfectly.” 

And they did.  Their hands fit as if they had pressed them into concreate themselves, creating a perfect impression.

“Felici…”

Her hands suddenly felt warm and there was a shaking under her knees.  Felicity laughed.

“Christ!” Oliver barked, leaning back. “We need to  _move_!”

“ _No_!  Stay!” 

And, amazingly, he did.  Oliver’s hands stayed firmly pressed next to Felicity’s, as if they were glued in place, but the man behind her was coiled and tense.   Ready for anything.

“Felicity, we need—”

The Door was moving, shifting, pulling to the side and—

Oliver’s arm banded around Felicity’s waist and, at the last second, he rolled them out of the way.  Just as the Door gave way and disappeared into the hillside…

Felicity scrambled out of Oliver’s arms, crawling back to look...

The Door was gone and in its place…

She looked down a steep staircase…

The entrance to Kin Cuudad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167377011125/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-13))
> 
> If you are confused as to why Oliver is acting so…out of sorts, that’s okay, so is Felicity.  One of the fun things about this story is that anything Felicity doesn’t know, you don’t know.  It’s a fun mystery.  Right?  (So, no, I’m not going to be writing anything in Oliver’s pov.  Sorry.)
> 
> If you think it’s a stretch to say the GPS and maps aren’t hooked up to the same satellite system as the rest of the ARGUS …yeah, probably.  I tried my best to explain this away, so I’d appreciate the suspension of disbelief.  (Aftercall Arrow writers have done far worse).
> 
> On the lighter side…my husband and I recently had a discussion of what makes a “Superfan.”   He argues that I qualify based purely on the sheer number of hours I spend on anything Arrow related.  But if I didn’t before, I think I crossed the line, my friends, when I recruited my ten-year-old daughter to make a triple batch of salt dough so I could create my own Door/Handprint/Key.  I am going to post the whole ridiculous process on Tumblr shortly so you can all marvel at my insan— _devotion_  to my fanfiction [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158531083270/the-making-ofthe-door-to-kin-cuudad-to) **.**
> 
> And speaking of devotion.  The limits of those belonging to my betas, **Ireland1733** , **Fairytalehearts** , and  **imusuallyobsessed**  were certainly tested these last weeks.  I worked on 13-17 in a big chunk, so I think I asked them to beta 80 pages in a week.  Then I plagued these poor ladies incessantly with anxious questions.  If they aren’t sick of me, it’s a miracle. 
> 
> Please, take the time to comment and/or kudo. 
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/


	15. Chapter 14: The Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158860960445/previously-on) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 17, 2016_  
_18:53_  
_The Door_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

 

“Holy shit! You did it. I can’t believe it. You  _did_  it.”

The awe in Oliver’s voice washed over Felicity, filling her with pride as her brain…her heart…her  _everything_  tried to catch up with what her eyes were seeing.

They  _did it_!

Kin Cuudad. It was real. It was here. Right down that staircase.

A giddy sort of excitement bubbled up and Felicity wanted to laugh. She did laugh.

The rain was pouring steadily and the wind blowing. Her hair and clothes stuck to her and the thunder boomed in the distance and Felicity…

Felicity lifted her face to the sky and laughed out loud. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. She reached out and grabbed Oliver’s arm and nothing had ever been so… right.  So _wonderful_.  Wonderful and right. She felt high or drunk or…

Turning her smile to Oliver, Felicity took in his astonished face and she…she wanted to forget _everything_.  She wanted to forget these last horrible years ever happened, to pretend that she had made a better choice then and that things were different now. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and have him twirl her around and…

Felicity wanted to kiss him.

The only thing that would make this moment better was if Felicity could celebrate it with her lips on Oliver’s.

It didn’t frighten her anymore. Felicity just…she just…she _wanted_ ….

After five years of feeling frozen, _dead_ inside.  It felt like she was coming alive again. And it was…painful almost, but… wonderful too and it would never have happened without Oliver. Felicity wanted to share this with him.  She wanted him to feel the same overwhelming joy as she did.

Felicity wanted her joy to be  _their_  joy.

Turning to Oliver, Felicity laid a hand on his chest, for the first time wishing he wasn’t wearing Kevlar, and smiled up at him. “ _We_  did it.”

Felicity looked at his lips and wondered what Oliver would do if she just threw herself into his arms and planted one on him.

But instead of smiling back, or stepping closer…or  _any form_  of encouragement, Oliver’s face became somber. When he met her eyes, Felicity’s smile faded too, because he seemed to be staring straight into her soul and she had the fanciful thought that he could see all her secrets.

But that was absurd, because that would be  _way_ too easy.

And probably not good, because if Oliver was seeing all her secrets, he really didn’t seem to be liking what he saw. Felicity couldn’t say that she knew what he was thinking… _or_  feeling but…it certainly wasn’t joy.

Then Oliver’s eyes  _did_  flick to Felicity’s lips and her heart skipped a beat, but before she could raise herself up on her tiptoes, his face hardened and he stepped back. Her hand fell from his chest and…she took a deep breath, trying to rein in her disappointment.

Felicity swallowed, trying to snatch back some of that rapidly fading happiness. She wasn’t ready for this moment to be over. Her eyes went back to the Door…the  _open_  Door and moved to get a closer look.

And just as quickly, Oliver’s hand grasped her elbow and pulled her back. “I’ll go first.” He was already pulling out an arrow and notching it in his bow.

Felicity just had to roll her eyes. Was he this ridiculously overprotective with everyone? Because if it was just her…

It really  _felt_  like Oliver still cared for her. Like a  _lot_. That he still…Felicity wished he’d just kiss her. It would really help her rollercoastering self-confidence. And maybe it would help his weirdly unpleasant mood.

“Oliver, this has been sealed for centuries…millennia probably,” Felicity said, because arguing seemed to be the way her brain had decided to deal with the situation. “What kind of threat do you think we are going to find down there? A Mummy? A zombie horde?”

Oliver’s jaw ticked, but his eyes were still on the Door, his arrow aimed at it as if he expected said horde to come streaming out. “You never know.”

If it was possible for one to roll their eyes harder, Felicity did. They had seen a lot of weird crap. A skull that shot death rays from its eyes. A Door that opened when they used their combined handprints as the key…

That was…Felicity didn’t know what that was. It had happened so fast she hadn’t stopped to think that there really wasn’t a scientific explanation for why their touch had opened that Door.

But there  _had_  to be an explanation. And no matter what, Felicity did not… _refused_  to believe in zombie hordes. Even if she enjoyed the  _Walking Dead_. Maybe  _because_  of how much she enjoyed the  _Walking Dead_

“At least, let me…” Felicity leaned over and scooped up a glow ball. They needed to be rational about this. About  _something_.

“What are you—?”

“Getting a closer look.” Tossing the ball down the stairs, Felicity listened to the thump thump that echoed on its way down. The sound didn’t last long, stopping just after the glow ball rolled out of view. The light remained though, stabilizing after a moment.

“It must lead to a tunnel,” Oliver surmised and Felicity nodded. He stepped forward. “Stay behind me.”

Ugh. Okay. Felicity could argue, but…really what would that accomplish?  Sometimes, it was just best to throw Oliver (and his anxiety) a bone and go along with it.

“ _Fine_.” Felicity answered, waving Oliver (rather impatiently) ahead.

She wanted to see whatever was down there. Like…yesterday.  Also, it would nice to be somewhere dry. Felicity had almost forgotten what that felt like. But, more importantly…

Eeeeee! The Lost City was down there!

But…why would a city be _below_ the jungle? That made no sense. How did it get there? It was probably just a tunnel that  _led_  to Kin Cuudad.

_Kin Cuudad._  Through that door and down that tunnel and…they would be the first people to walk her streets in nearly two and a half millennia. Suddenly, Felicity had the impulse to push Oliver to get his overly attractive butt  _moving_.

Yet, when she stepped onto the narrow staircase behind him, Felicity was grateful that he had insisted on going first. She was a lot less nervous stepping down the crumbly steps with Oliver’s broad shoulders blocking her fall. Though, as she expected from the light, they didn’t descend all that far, maybe ten…twelve feet before they came to a landing.

No, not a landing…a room….

“ _Whoa_ ,” Felicity breathed, looking around at the, now, brightly lit chamber.

It was  _amazing_. Incredible. Felicity couldn’t even…it was so  _gorgeous_. And that didn’t even begin to express how she felt stepping into a room, clearly designed for ancient royalty or… _the_   _gods_ …untouched by man for longer than Christianity  _existed_.

“Well, at least there’s no mummies,” Oliver drawled, lowering his bow. Cause…yeah…it seemed _he_ was fully grasping the significance of this moment. Party-pooper.

Felicity decided to completely ignore him…or rather  _pretend_  Oliver was just as excited as she was. Yup. She liked that plan. “It’s incredible. It’s…it’s like stepping into another world.”

“More like stepping into the  _entrance_  to another world,” Oliver corrected with a disappointed sigh. But maybe it was just tired. It was hard to tell.

Felicity really couldn’t figure how he could possibly be disappointed. They had gotten through the Door, in record time she might add, far  _less_  time and in far  _worse_  conditions than anyone had imagined, so…

Yay them! Also…look at this place. Who could be disappointed in  _this_?

But, Oliver stood there, hands on his hips, frowning…no brooding.  D _efinitely_  brooding, the big dolt, as he surveyed the large room…

The large  _enclosed_  room.

With no way out other than the one they had come in…

_Aw maaaan!_

“It looks like we just traded one door for another,” Oliver muttered. “But we have shelter. That’s something, at least.”

Felicity frowned, feeling rather like an overexcited helium balloon that Oliver had just…popped.

And the worst part, Oliver was  _right_.

As glorious as this room was, it wasn’t Kin Cuudad.  It was just…an antechamber? A large room with unusually high ceilings, incredible carvings and bejewel murals. Everywhere there was gold and silver, jade and red moissanite, moonstone and obsidian. It was an archaeologists dream.

But for them…it was just another obstacle.  Frikity frak frak. Nothing could be easy, could it?

Yet…

“If this is the  _antechamber_ , then there must be another door.” Felicity flew to the walls, feeling along the length, looking for a break in the flat stone. The limestone had probably been covered in plaster before it had been painted and carved, but still, there had to be a break. A way to continue the rest of the journey to Kin Cuudad.

It was difficult for Felicity to keep from getting distracted by the gorgeous scenes…the life of the Daughter of the Sun, from what little she let herself analyze.  God, she wished she had the time to just sit and stare. But getting to Kin Cuudad had to be the priority.

“Unless, it’s not an antechamber,” Oliver suggested, standing there like a pessimistic lump. “It could just be a hole in the ground. A treasure chamber or something.”

Felicity threw Oliver a  _look_. And she sure as hell hoped it conveyed the  _depth_  of her annoyance. Because… _seriously_? Not helping. Not helping  _at all._

Very purposefully, Felicity turned back to her task, challenging, “Then where’s the treasure?” as she continued her slow exploration of the walls.

Oliver had better  _not_  be right. Felicity refused to believe he was. Because if he was right, then they were back to square one. With  _no_   _idea_  how to find Kin Cuudad. If it wasn’t buried under a mile of volcanic rock.

But, at least, she knew now it was real.  Kin Cuudad  _existed_.  Felicity could feel it in her bones.

Oliver…he just shrugged. “There’s been centuries for the treasures to be moved.  Or stolen.”

Okay,  _now_  he was just being obstinate. Felicity wouldn’t put it past Oliver to be doing it on purpose just to annoy her.

“Yet they left all the gems in the walls?  _No_.” Felicity shook her head and maybe, she was trying to convince herself as much as him. It would be so much more helpful if he’d give her an inch, though. Then she remembered…ha! She had her  _own_  inch. “The Door  _said_  it was the entrance to Kin Cuudad.  In the hieroglyphs.”

This  _had_  to be an antechamber. It had to be.

Oliver did his grunting thing and it was  _really_  starting to get… _no,_  it had  _already_  gotten on her nerves. It was like they stepped into the jungle and he lost his ability to use actual words. Or contribute anything but negative opinions and his (scarily precise) ability to shoot things.

But then Felicity found…

“Here! Look!”

Ha! Take that, Mister Negativity!

Felicity came to a spot directly across from the entrance (which was where she really should have looked in the first place, since it was the most logical place for an exit). She could see the seams of a door and in the center…thank  _god_ , the palm-print sun.

“See!  _See_! It’s the same hand…key…print  _thingy_.” Felicity pointed to the imprint, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her hands gesturing wildly. And, maybe, she was acting…silly-ish, but this was worth being excited about and with the negative vibes coming from Oliver…the emotional roller coaster was dizzying.

Usually Oliver would have found her… _eccentric_ behavior amusing but, of course, this  _would_  be the  _one_  time he didn’t. Ugh.

Well maybe his face did soften a tiny bit. Though Felicity really didn’t understand why he wasn’t more excited. This may not have been  _everything_ they had hoped for, but it was progress.  _Significant_  progress. And a damn sight better than being out in the rain.

But Oliver’s shoulders were stiff and all she saw on his face was exhaustion. He didn’t seem at all thrilled with the idea of being stuck here with Felicity. This morning he was willing to move mountains (or 200lbs stone slabs) to be alone with her, in a not dissimilar hole in the ground, and now that he had gotten his wish…

Okay, that was a jump. Felicity didn’t have any (clear) evidence Oliver didn’t want to be down here with her.

Oliver was tired. That was it. He was just tired and hungry and sore and wet  _and_ , Felicity was sure, having an adrenaline drop to end all adrenaline drops. He probably didn’t have the energy to be excited.  And that negative vibe she was getting…very likely just her own anxiety.  She had to stop reading into every little thing.

“Come on, try it with me.” Felicity had to force herself to smile this time as she waved Oliver over to activate the handprints again. The handprints that caused a door to open with no discernible mechanism…

Though there  _had_  to be an explanation, right? A hidden trigger that was activated by the combined pressure of their hands?

Would  _any_  set of hands work? It  _seemed_  like it was made specifically for them. But that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? How could they make something that could only be opened by two people who  _weren’t even born yet_? Wow, this place had Felicity all mixed up, her head filled with nonsense.

But thinking about that was actually  _more_  pleasant than thinking about the fact that Oliver’s frown deepened and he hesitated (she was sure of it) before coming over to her. And the only explanation Felicity could come up with was that he didn’t want to embrace her.

Now. He decided  _now_ he didn’t want to touch her. When Felicity had  _finally_  decided that she was going to tell Oliver everything and fight for them?

Come on, god? Hadn’t she been punished  _enough_?

But he came. Slowly and with way too much equivocation, Oliver approached and gingerly put his arms around Felicity for the second time in less than an hour, each of them fitting their hands into the overlapping palm prints.

Felicity couldn’t shake the feeling that they fit a little too perfectly. It really did feel like the imprints were made specifically for them and wasn’t that… _odd_? She must be reading too much into this. She doing that a lot.

Like how Felicity had the distinct feeling that Oliver was trying to hold his body so that he was touching her as little as possible. Like touching her was repulsive or…

Like Felicity was  _trying_  to drive herself  _insane_  with self-doubt.

Once their hands were in place, Felicity forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. Or _under_ her hands. The Door. Kin Cuudad. Right on the other side. She held her breath and waited.

And…

_Nothing_.

No warmth. No shifting walls. They held their hands there longer than they had the first time and when Oliver finally dropped his, Felicity didn’t protest. She just…

“Frak.”

Felicity blew out a breath, her bitter disappointment a direct mirror to the excitement she’d felt just minutes before. Before she even knew what she was doing, she collapsed back against Oliver’s chest. For no other reason than she was exhausted and with the loss of the excitement she really felt it. And his chest was just…there.

Oliver’s hands stayed at his sides. He didn’t touch her in any way. It wasn’t particularly encouraging.

But then, he leaned over her shoulder and pointed to the center of the palm prints. “There’s an indentation here. By the thumbs.” Oliver put both arms out to trace the area with his fingers, effectively embracing her again, as he whispered, “Maybe something fell out. That’s why this one doesn’t work.”

“I just hope that doesn’t mean it’s broken. As in permanently,” Felicity breathed. She had no idea why they were talking so quietly. But…if she closed her eyes, it almost felt like he was holding her.

Too bad Felicity was certain that wasn’t Oliver’s intent.

Especially since Felicity wanted to pull his arms around her and just snuggle in. Couldn’t they just lie down like this and stay this way for the next 12 hours? They could deal with everything else…later.

Oliver sighed. It didn’t sound particularly hopeful, but it also didn’t sound particularly…not. “Well, you have the whole length of the hurricane to see if you can figure something out.”

At least, Oliver seemed to have snapped out of his over-the-top pessimism. Swallowing, Felicity turned before his arms fell away completely. His hands dropped to her upper arms…which wasn’t as good as her waist but better than him stepping away.

They were alone.

Trapped by a hurricane.

Cait had said that they needed to be alone together to work everything out, even joked she wanted to lock them in a room together. Well, a hurricane served that function rather well.

And Oliver’s lips were right there. A kiss wouldn’t be a bad way to start them off. If he leaned down just a little…

Felicity didn’t feel panicky this time. She…

Oliver stepped back, setting Felicity away from him and breaking the spell as surely and as  _pointedly as_ …

Ugh. Life  _sucked_  sometimes.

“I’m going to grab the rest of our gear,” Oliver murmured, turning away.

The rush of disappointment made Felicity almost dizzy. “Of course.” Gulping, she asked, “Do you need any help?”

Oliver shook his head. He didn’t even look at her. “You work on the translating. It’s not like I can help with that anyway. I’ll be back soon.”

Felicity watched him leave. Once Oliver was gone, she looked around the beautiful chamber. Suddenly, she felt very alone.

 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

 

_September 17, 2016_  
_23:50_  
_The Antechamber_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

The feeling didn’t improve. The feeling that Felicity was alone even though Oliver was right there.

Not that Oliver was  _right_  there. In fact, he was  _barely_  there.  _Intermittently_  there…was actually the most accurate.

Mostly, he was  _out there._ In the jungle. In a burgeoning hurricane. Because Oliver would rather be  _out there_  than in  _here_.

With Felicity.

And all of that was probably…

A gross exaggeration and completely unfair because Oliver was working, goddamn it! He was preparing for the  _actual_  hurricane. What did Felicity want him to do? Sit there and  _gaze_  at her while she translated? Would that make her feel wanted? Secure? When had she become so god _damned_ needy?

But Oliver had been  _out there_  an awful lot and it wasn’t just disheartening. It was  _terrifying_. Because he’d been out in the jungle in a storm for…Felicity glanced down at her tablet… _crap_ , over an hour this time. What the frak was he  _doing_?

At first, Oliver was emptying out everything from the bike. Understandable. Completely. Of course, they needed all their supplies in here, their shelter. The one that was so much bigger than Felicity had even dared hope for.

Which she was glad for. Honestly.

And not disappointed.

Not in the least.

So it wasn’t the cozy little burrow Felicity had imagined. The one where they would have no choice but snuggle close for warmth…

_Nope_ , this was much better. Obviously.

And if Oliver seemed a little curt while he was working, well, what did she expect? They were in a dangerous situation. Deadly, even. He was working out in a tropical storm, wet and miserable. Could Felicity really blame him for not being in the mood to flirt?

God, what was  _wrong_  with her? This morning, any sign of  _possible_  flirting had freaked her the frak out and now… _now_  Felicity was freaking out because Oliver  _wasn’t_  flirting.

One might come to the conclusion that Felicity was just looking for something to freak out about.

But then, after bringing in their supplies, Oliver had disappeared for almost an hour to hide the bike. Because, apparently, they couldn’t bring  _that_ down here. Oliver didn’t think he’d be able to carry it back up the stairs and they both knew Felicity would be of no help in that regard. So again, totally reasonable.

And if it took longer than Felicity would have expected…well, maybe her expectations were too high.

Then Oliver had to gather wood. Because even if it was too wet  _now_  for a fire, who knew how long they would be here and, hopefully, (according to him, anyway) it would dry out.

Next, Oliver filled their canteens with rain water.

And _then_ , Mr. Jungle Survival Expert showed up with the armfuls of fruit he had gathered.

One might think they was settling in for a two-week blizzard, not a 24-hour storm.

And this last time…Felicity didn’t even  _know_  what the hell Oliver was doing out there now. What the hell  _else_  was there to do? Was he setting booby traps? Building a decoy jaguar? Seriously? What the hell?

It wasn’t like Felicity hadn’t tried to ask either. But all she had gotten was that stupid grunt for an answer. One of these times that grunt was going to make her pop off, she swore to god.

And also, Felicity was starting to get seriously worried here. And not because (well, not  _just_  because) she was afraid Oliver didn’t want to spend time with her.

But because…what if something had happened to him? Oliver could have been attacked by another animal. Or knocked out when the wind blew off a tree branch or uprooted a tree  _or_ …

And all  _because_  Oliver couldn’t bear to spend time with Felicity.

Okay, she was spiraling.

Deep breaths. Now was not the time to overreact. Felicity really needed to get a grip.

But where  _was_  he?

Felicity’s head fell forward and landed on the beautiful fresco of the Warrior King battling some sort of serpent monster, his trusty jaguars at his side. Too bad the jaguars here weren’t on Felicity and Oliver’s side.

This place was filled with incredible, fascinating things and Felicity’s ability to focus on them was dwindling by the moment.

This was ridiculous. Felicity just needed to go out there and make sure Oliver was okay. And if he got angry with her for going outside, then…he damn well shouldn’t have stayed out there this long without telling her what the  _frak_  was going on!

God, she hoped he would be angry at her, she prayed she would get an earful of bullish over-protective nonsense. Because the other alternative…well, the other alternative was that Oliver was stuck under an upended tree, bleeding to death, while Felicity was down here twiddling her thumbs.

Felicity wiped her hands off on her now dry (but not for long) shorts, pushed a pair of pen darts into her pocket (just in case), and made for the stairs. She held on to the sides because the stairs still freaked her out, scardy cat that she was.

And really? Who had ever thought that Felicity Smoak could be a decent Field Agent in the first place? Seriously bad judgement on the part of whoever had made  _that_  decision.

Half-way up the stairs, Felicity could hear the wind rushing and feel the spray of the rain. It was worse than it was before. Like  _a lot_  a lot. Could there possibly be a rational reason Oliver was still out in this when there was a perfectly safe, perfectly  _dry_  room downstairs?

Other than Oliver couldn’t stand being alone with her, that was?

Felicity paused, taking a deep breath. She wondered what she had done to remind Oliver that he hated her. Hated her enough to risk his life needlessly out in the storm. Because he hadn’t seemed to hate her last night. Or this morning. It wasn’t until after they got to the Door that he started acting this way. Well…maybe a little after the crash.

Maybe Oliver had been hurt worse in the crash than Felicity had realized. Concussions could cause mood swings. Maybe it was that. And not that somewhere along the way Oliver had remembered she was the traitorous bitch who broke his heart.

But whatever reason he was…or  _wasn’t_  avoiding her, Felicity had to know Oliver was okay. Onward into the breach. (And when she got him safe inside she would make sure his injuries weren’t worse than he let on and maybe give him a piece of her mind for taking stupid risks).

It was hard to believe that the hurricane wasn’t already here, given the strength of the winds. The pelting rain was almost painful and Felicity winced as she pushed herself up and out of the entrance. It was fraking dark out. There was no sign of the light from the bike (which, of  _course_ , should have been well hidden by now) or a glow ball.

Shielding her eyes (and her glasses) with her hands, Felicity yelled, “Oliver! Oliver!”

“Right here.”

Felicity jumped, almost falling down the stairs as she whipped her head around to see Oliver standing not three feet behind her.

Oliver did have a glow ball in his pocket, but the rain was so strong it muted the light. The idiot was soaked to the skin.

Crouching down, Oliver yelled (it was the only way to hear him), “What are you doing out here?! I told you to stay inside!”

So it was mad at her then. Thank  _goodness_.

“You were gone over an hour!” Felicity screamed back, barely holding back the stream of insults that threatened to spill out in her overwhelming relief and  _intense_  irritation. “I was worried! What the hell are you doing?”

Because if Oliver was just standing out here avoiding her…Felicity didn’t know what she was going to do.

Oliver scowled and looked down. Felicity realized he had the tarp in his hand. “I’m trying to secure this over the door to conceal the opening!”

Felicity would have rolled her eyes, but it seemed foolish, given she could barely open them with the force of the wind and rain. There was a steady stream running down her glasses and distorting her vision. “I hardly think you need to hide from HIVE—”

“Maybe not, but this would be an excellent place for an animal to try to take shelter from the storm!”

Oh. Well. That was actually very smart. If Oliver had just  _communicated,_  everything might have gone a whole hell of a lot smoother. And it may have saved her say…two dozen insecure freak outs. Now Felicity felt rather foolish.

But the hell if she was letting Oliver know that. He should have  _said_  something. Taking a deep breath, Felicity yelled, “Then let me help you!”

Oliver shook his head and Felicity seriously considered finding something to throw at him. If all this angst was because he was being an overprotective jackass…

“Seriously? Look at how much success you’re having trying to do this on your own?” Felicity gestured to the half secure tarp that lay under a pile of rocks. The other  _three sides_  were flapping violently in the wind. “At least, let me hold on to one side!”

Felicity thought that Oliver gave her one of those grunt things, but she couldn’t really hear it, which suited her just fine. She stared at him for what felt like a full minute, watching the muscles in his jaw tighten and his lips thin, until finally…

“Fine,” Oliver barked. “Just sit down and get yourself secure!”

Felicity did as she was told without any (further) lip. Because, one, Oliver had agreed to what she wanted so she kinda sorta already won and, two, her throat was already raw from arguing with him over the roar of the storm. It seemed like she was going to have to choose her words wisely. Not exactly her strong suit.

Sitting on the stairs, so that only the upper half of her body was above the opening, Felicity could do little more than watch Oliver work. He had removed his Kevlar as she had, so his grey t-shirt clung to him like second skin, the light in his pocket giving off just enough light.

For Felicity to see the definition of  _every single one_  of Oliver’s muscles.

Frak. Felicity really hoped she was imagining the whole avoiding her thing, because otherwise, this was going to be a  _very_  painful twenty-four hours.

Oliver handed Felicity one side of the tarp, then worked to make sure the other two sides were completely buried under rocks and large heavy branches.

“Pull tight!” Oliver yelled and Felicity complied to the best of her ability.

They were able to work quite quickly when all was said and done. And with fairly little effort on Felicity’s part. It made her want to scream at Oliver for not asking for help earlier. They could both be inside and dry by now.

Of course, lecturing Oliver was probably not the best idea. Not with the possibility of him being angry at her still hanging over her head. Which would annoy her,  _if_  she didn’t have five years of penance to do.

It did feel good to work together in this way though. Easy. Right.

Maybe Oliver wasn’t angry at her. Felicity was probably just being paranoid, her guilt playing with her overactive and exhausted mind, causing it to play tricks on her.

Soon, Oliver was squeezed in next to her and lifting a large rock. Felicity shoved the tarp underneath.

“Okay,” she yelled and was a little shocked when, instead of being muffled, the sound echoed back at her. The tarp, now tight above them, sounded like a set of drums, the rain a steady beat above their heads. Felicity pulled her hand back just as Oliver dropped the stone and…

They were done.

That was it.

They had just succeeded in barricading themselves inside for the duration of the storm.

And suddenly, Felicity was very,  _very_  aware of how close she was to a very wet, very large, very  _gorgeous_ love of her life.

Felicity shivered and it wasn’t because she was cold.

“So, um…” Felicity really had no idea where to take things from here. “Guess that’s it.”

Was this show time? They were alone. No longer in a life threating situation. Was this where she tried to find an opening to tell Oliver… _everything_?

Felicity’s palms started to sweat.

“Yup.” And the simple word conveyed…well, not a lot, but it was clear that Oliver wasn’t feeling all that sure of himself either.

No more running for Oliver. Or Felicity for that matter. They were trapped in here.

Yup, they were.

The stairway was rather narrow. Oliver was so close it felt like they were breathing the same air.

“Guess we should…?”

Felicity’s voice trickled off and her traitorous mind supplied ‘make-out like bunnies.’ Which was ridiculous and silly and exactly the opposite of what Felicity had been thinking 12 hours earlier, but sounded soooo good…

God, she hadn’t even been alone with Oliver for a full day and already Felicity had been turned upside down and inside out.

Oliver took her elbow and Felicity actually thought that he was going to pull her to him. And  _that_  just showed how delusional she was where he was concerned, because all he did was use his hand to steady her, to help her stand and guide her back down the stairs. Ever the gentleman, Oliver Queen.

Breathe, Smoak. Stop jumping to conclusions! Oliver wasn’t going to kiss her out of nowhere any more than he was going to…what? Rage at her?

She had no idea, she was so tied up in knots. Besides, Felicity needed to tell him everything before things…became physical.

Felicity had to remind herself of that. There were no…bunny make-out sessions until she came clean about everything and saw whether Oliver…well, still wanted to make-out with her.

But one thing was for sure, the tension in this small (and it was feeling smaller by the second) room was insanely high. Felicity was really hoping that it was of the sexual variety and not the  _grrr_  variety. But, unfortunately, her instincts told her it was both.

Down in the main chamber, Oliver reached for the emergency kit that he’d pulled out from the bottom of the bike’s cargo seat. For a moment, Felicity worried it was because he was hurt and hadn’t let on…

But it didn’t just have medical supplies, it had all sorts of basic necessities for a prolonged mission. Soap. Tooth brushes and tooth powder. Thermal sleeping bags that rolled up to the size of a soda can and basically amounted to sleeping in a giant garbage bag, but it could keep you alive and inflated a little for a tiny bit of cushion.

There were also two towels and that seemed to be what Oliver was looking for. Well, they were really thin dish towels, but beggars and choosers and all that. At least they were dry.

“Here.” Oliver tossed her one.

“Thanks,” Felicity murmured as she watched him dry his face and hair through blurry vision as she wiped her own face and glasses.

Oliver dried his neck and hands, very pointedly  _not_  looking at her as he did. Felicity waited with baited breath and a nervous kind of excitement (that sorta made her feel like a voyeur) for him to take his shirt off.

Because of  _course_ , Oliver was going to take his shirt off.

It would be stupid not to. It was soaking wet and he had even put up clothesline for their stuff to dry (made from one of his grappling arrows) and Oliver had  _never_  been shy about walking around shirtless. So much so that it really shouldn’t affect Felicity at all. It was normal and something any agent in these circumstances would do. So, it was probably not at all appropriate the way her mouth was already watering and her fingertips tingling with the need to touch.

Felicity was so busy trying to get a grip on her rampaging hormones that it took her a full minute to realize Oliver  _wasn’t_  going to take off  _anything_.

Seriously? What the frak?

She knew for a  _fact_  that Oliver would have before. And if Felicity were Digg…or Sara…or, hell, Cait, that shirt would already be off like it was no big deal. Which it wasn’t.

But instead, Oliver was scurrying around, looking like a drowned rat, his face a hard mask.

So…Felicity could rule out the possibility that Oliver was going to try to seduce her.

And  _that_  sucked. Really sucked. Because she would have really enjoyed letting him.

It had been Felicity’s favorite bike-ride fantasy.

Even though, logically, Felicity knew that she couldn’t allow anything significant to happen until after she confessed. But… maybe…a kiss. Or two. That wouldn’t be too far over the line, would it? Maybe even soften Oliver up a little before she laid on the pain? Remind him of their… _incredible c_ hemistry?

But now…

_Not_  going to happen. Clearly. Because Oliver preferred to stay wet. His shirt was quickly going to start picking up dirt from all the dust in here and… _yuck_. Or, maybe, he planned on getting in his sleeping bag like that. Yeah,  _that_ ’s comfortable. He’d probably get moldy.

Why was he doing this? Did Oliver think he was being a gentleman? Was he trying to keep  _Felicity_  from being uncomfortable? If so they really needed to communicate better, because his keeping the shirt on…making her really  _un_ comfortable.

Once upon a time, they had been spectacular at communication. Now, Felicity didn’t even know where to begin. Words stuck in her throat.

Felicity watched Oliver lay his towel over the taunt wire and made a decision. It was time to start acting like herself. Like the  _real_  Felicity Smoak. Overwatch and Sunshine and all that.

Thank goodness for sports bras.

Trying to look as casual as she possible, Felicity pulled off her shirt and wrung it out. It took an incredible amount of concentration and willpower not to falter under the heat of his gaze when Oliver froze, staring at her out if the corner of his eye.

Felicity felt light-headed. Was it possible to pass out from something like this?

_No_. That was stupid. She was  _not_  passing out. She was strong. She was  _in control_.

Yeah,  _right_.

And still Oliver just stood there. Like a big dumb statue.

Frak it. “Take off your shirt,” Felicity told him in what she really hoped was a no-nonsense tone.

 Not nervous. Or seductive. Or  _desperate_. All those things would be bad. Though Felicity supposed she should just be glad she didn’t squeak.

Oliver’s eyes widened and he stared at her…well,  _continued_  to stare at her. Only more obviously. Did he think Felicity was trying to seduce him? _Was_  she trying to seduce him?

“You need at least  _one_  piece dry of clothing,” Felicity told him. Very reasonably, she felt. But she had to keep her eyes on her own shirt and not let them wander or the whole pretense would go out the window.

And Oliver…he  _kept_  staring, his mouth hanging open. He looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t come up with anything to say. It made Felicity’s stomach turn over in a very unpleasant way. Why did she feel like if he didn’t take off his god _damn_  shirt she was going to cry?

Thankfully, that wasn’t tested.

Finally… _fi-nal-ly_ , Oliver turned his back to her and peeled off his shirt.

Yes,  _peeled_  was the only appropriate word for the way the fabric came off, glued to his skin the way it was. Felicity wondered why he couldn’t look at her while he did it.

Closing her eyes, she blew out a shaky breath, glad Oliver couldn’t see. Okay, Felicity had won that battle. Barely. Now what?

They were stuck down here. Alone. Half-naked. Caitlin and Curtis couldn’t have planned it any better. Felicity could almost hear them snickering. She could hear the whole team snicker. A virtual cacophony of snickers.

But had any of them taken into account Oliver’s weird mood swings? Or the possibility that he didn’t  _want_  to be alone with Felicity?

Taking another deep breath and holding it this time, Felicity forced herself to turn and look at Oliver and…oh  _god_!

Felicity had to bite her lip to keep from letting out a gasp at all the new scars that littered his already marred skin. They hadn’t been so apparent in the dim campfire light yesterday. But in the bright light of the glow ball…what had they  _done_  to him? It looked like he had been…sliced.

Like  _multiple_  times.

What kind of monsters were these Bratva?  Felicity hoped Oliver had burned them to the ground. Painfully.

And then Oliver turned and Felicity instinctively yanked up her shorts, to make sure he couldn’t see  _her_  newest set of scars. The ones low on her abdomen from the gunshot wound and that fateful surgery after Tikal. She wasn’t ready for him to see  _that_  yet. One thing at a—

_Then_  Felicity got a good look at Oliver’s left shoulder and arm.

This time, Felicity didn’t bother to smother her gasp. “ _Oliver_! Why didn’t you tell me you were this banged up from the crash?” Because he hadn’t been covered with gouges and black and blue marks yesterday, that was for sure. She skirted around him and grabbed for the med kit.

“It’s nothing,” Oliver grumbled, holding out his arm and twisting it to inspect the damage. Of course, he couldn’t _see_ how the back of his left shoulder was black and blue.

It was Felicity’s turn to grunt at his macho nonsense. Then she scoffed for good measure as she pulled out cream and bandages and… “Do you need stitches?”

“ _No_.” Oliver said it as if it was an idiotic question and that made Felicity steam. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d dislocated his shoulder and didn’t tell her.

Had Oliver been cranky all this time because he was in pain and refusing to say anything? _He_ was the idiot! Felicity gave him her very best withering look, then reaching out to grab his arm, it occurred to her… “Did you break anything?”

“ _No_!” Same tone, only louder. Was Oliver the only one allowed to be worried about his partner’s health? Hypocrite.

“A sprain? If you lie to me—”

“Felicity!” Oliver grabbed her rapidly gesticulating hand, stilling her. “Seriously, it’s just a few scratches and a little bruising. All very normal for this sort of mission,” his voice gentled and Felicity gulped. “The worst is a sore wrist. But it’s  _fine_.”

The intensity in Oliver’s blue eyes made Felicity…twitchy or  _something_  and…he still held her arm and the way he had softened his voice kind of made her melt. Just a little.

Swallowing, Felicity’s gaze skittered away from his and focused on his scraped-up arm. “Well,” she mumbled, unable to get her voice to raise much above a whisper, “sit down and let me get some antibiotic ointment on that at least.”

“I can—”

“See behind you? Not even  _you_  are that good.” Felicity leveled him with a hard glare and this time it was Oliver’s eyes that flicked away. “ _Sit_  down.”

Sighing (with a little grunt for good measure), Oliver got to his knees…and, boy, did  _that_  do something to her insides.  From her heart to her toes and everything in between.

But Oliver seemed far from thrilled at the idea of her touching him. Felicity tried to tell herself it was because he was in pain and, as always, hated to acknowledge it. Was it awful of her that part of her hoped that his injuries were enough to account for Oliver’s…crankiness?

But once Felicity had cleaned him off, his wounds did seem rather shallow.

Which was good. Of  _course_ that was what she wanted. She smoothed on the cream and Oliver grunted and barked, “Ow,” like the baby he could be.  And,  _that_ , was so familiar Felicity was actually able to smile, a little of the tension leaving her.

As she worked, Felicity peaked along his chest and abdomen.  Looking for more injuries. Yup. That was her story and she was sticking to it. It wasn’t that his new tattoo, the star-pattern over his heart, kept drawing her gaze. It wasn’t that different than the Mayan sun and star patterns all over the walls…

Oliver caught her staring and gave her a raised eyebrow, making Felicity’s eyes jerk away guilty. “New tattoo?” she tried to ask causally.

Guess that wasn’t a good question, because Oliver frowned, his shoulders tensing and his eyes squeezing shut as he grumbled, “Bratva.”

His tone was clear.  Oliver was not open to talking about it _._ At least not at the moment. He rolled his head on his shoulders, presumably to work out the kinks and before Felicity knew what was happening her hands were cupping the back of his head, carding through his hair.

Oliver’s eyes snapped open. They were filled with so much shock, Felicity almost…

“Looking for bumps. Hold still.” Felicity blurted the first excuse that came to mind and moved her fingers to gently do just that. God, it felt good. Too good, maybe. “Did you hit your head?”

“No,” Oliver whispered and, for a brief, second his eyes were open and vulnerable as they stared up at her. Felicity’s fingers lingered, stroking until…he caught her wrists, pulling them away as he stood. “I was able to keep my own head from hitting the ground. Just not yours.”

He turned away, right back to growly, grumpy Oliver.  _Fabulous_. When his eyes did flick back to Felicity it was only to go as far as her elbow, before he turned away to riffle through the med kit himself. “You should put some of that ointment on your elbow.”

Felicity flipped over her arm and…sure enough, her left elbow was skinned good. But it didn’t look like Oliver was going to offer to help  _her_  put on the cream. Crap. This was  _not_  going the way she hoped.

And they hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet.

Squeezing some ointment out to tend to own her wounds, Felicity muttered, “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head? That would explain the grouchiness.”

Oliver froze, his hand around a pill bottle. “Grouchiness?”

Felicity could feel her cheeks heat up. She said that out loud then? “Yeah. As in snappish.  Irritable.  _Cranky_?” Oliver grunted and she couldn’t resist an exasperated, “Like  _that_.”

“This is just my personality, Felicity,” Oliver drawled, going back to opening up the bottle.

“Since when?” And…oh,  _why_  couldn’t she keep her mouth shut!

Oliver’s eyes snapped  _wide_  open at that. He pulled himself up to his full height, towering over her…and Felicity was kinda sorta terrified of the answer. “Since the Gambit? Since Tikal? Since the Bratva? Since  _birth_? Take your pick.”

Swallowing, Felicity forced her shoulders back and met his eyes, debating whether it was a good idea to point out that  _her_  Oliver had been no such thing. Not before Tikal anyway. Not with her.

Instead she said, “And here I thought it was because you were mad at me.” And Felicity had no idea how she got so brave. Or so stupid.

Oliver’s gaze fell away. He swallowed and then…he grabbed her hand and Felicity’s heart leapt into her throat.

“I’m not mad at you,” Oliver insisted, pressing two pills into her hand. “Ibuprofen. For your head.”

Then Oliver stepped back and turned away from her again. Leaving Felicity to stare, dumbly, at the pills in her hand. His denial was far from convincing. And he wouldn’t look at her. So…really not feeling like him being angry at her was off the table.

Maybe this was her opening though? Maybe…Felicity should suggest that Oliver was mad at her for leaving him? She had already been blunter than she had intended, why stop now? Should she just jump right in, address the elephant in the room?

When she didn’t swallow the pills right away, Oliver pressed a canteen into her other hand and Felicity’s mouth went dry…which was kind of ironic. She needed to say  _something_ …

“I’ll try to be less grouchy but, please, take the medicine.” And just like that, her Oliver of this morning was back and it startled Felicity into nodding and doing as she was told.

“Thank you,” Felicity murmured, her voice sounding oddly breathless. Okay, it was definitely  _time_ —

“You want to show me what you found?” Oliver asked, gesturing to the wall.

Or they could talk shop. That worked too.

Didn’t accomplish much…except, you know,  _the mission_ but…

“Yeah…sure…” Felicity wrung her hands and tried to get a hold of herself. Then she realized that wringing her hands was a total tell and dropped them to her side. She turned back to the wall, suddenly feeling  _very_  half-naked. Whose idea was  _that_  anyway?

Maybe a little break from the personal stuff would help.  _Before_  the gut wrenching conversation. Give them both a chance to catch their breaths. Yeah, that was a good plan. Felicity could use a minute to get her emotions more…settled.

“So, the murals depict the life of our favorite couple,” Felicity began, because at this point she needed to say or do  _something_.

Then she realized what she  _had_  said and…crap, did that sound too familiar? It did, didn’t it? Felicity glanced over at Oliver only to find that he had become distracted by a largish carving of the Daughter of the Sun and was staring at it intently, his massive arms crossed, his hair so attractive, spiky and wet…

Right…what was she saying?

Felicity shook herself, grateful that Oliver was looking anywhere but her at the moment. She’d take anything to keep him from noticing her spazing out, even if it was him staring at his 2300-year-old crush…

Why did that make Felicity smile? Actually, it made her feel all warm and fuzzy-bubbly inside.  Really, it was a welcome change. Even if it  _was_  a very weird way to react to the situation. Though, it would have been illogical to be jealous of someone dead more than two thousand years.

Clearing her throat, she forced herself to start again, “This side of the entrance is dedicated to the life of the Daughter of the Sun,” Felicity gestured to the right of the doorway. “It starts with her birth and wraps around…” She spun around and pointed to the door…the  _new_  Door (still with the capital ‘D’). The unopened one. “And  _here_ …their stories combine. This area around the Door is their lives together.”

Felicity waited for Oliver to join her at the…exit, for want of a better term. But instead, he wandered to the beginning of the princess’s story. Of course, he did. He was nothing if not single-minded.

“So, this is our Sun Queen as a baby?” Oliver gestured to the wall with his chin and Felicity tried not to stare at where his arms crossed, just under his pecs.

“Mmmhmm,” she murmured. Was it weird that Felicity found Oliver’s fixation kind of adorable?

“Well,” Oliver sighed, “I’m sorry to say, your Viking theory is clearly false.”

For a moment, Felicity felt a twinge of anxiety and maybe even offense, but then Oliver glanced at her with a little twinkle in his eye…oh thank  _god_! He was  _teasing_.

This was the first sign of anything playful since the battle had begun. Maybe that was all Oliver’s distance and irritability was. Battle Mode. Mixed with worry and pain, post bike crash. Maybe Felicity was totally overanalyzing and over-reacting. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“Why would you say that?” Felicity’s voice came out more gravely than she intended, given she hadn’t intended for it to come out gravely at all.

“Clearly,” Oliver waved a hand at the fresco on the wall, “she was plucked as a baby from the sky by the sun god and sent to earth on a bed of sunshine.”

A burst of laughter, so very welcome, bubbled out of her and Felicity felt the tension drain away. The bad tension. The upset tension. The  _other kind_  of tension…well, that wasn’t going anywhere.

Grinning, Felicity came to stand next to Oliver, not even bothering to preserve anything resembling a personal bubble between them. She was really hoping the bubble would be gone for good soon.

The carving Oliver was looking at featured an enormous jewel encrusted Kinich Ahau, the Mayan sun god, holding a small girl with gold hair in his out-stretched hand. The next panel showed the girl floating to the ground on what looked like a sun-shaped cloud, where she was discovered by Mayan villagers.

“Oh,  _I_  see,” Felicity said, playing along. “ _Obviously_ , this is undeniable proof that she not only existed but was crafted from a sunbeam.”

“Thank you!”

They looked at each other and when Oliver shared her smile, Felicity just felt…like she could  _burst_. But all too soon he yanked his eyes away and cleared his throat.

“So what else?”

Nothing that Felicity particularly wanted to talk about. Not at that moment, anyway.

“Various scenes where the Daughter of the Sun is brought to the Royal Family. Where she grows up beautiful and kind, is worshipped, heals the sick, blesses the harvest, yadayada…”

Felicity walked around the room as she recited, keeping her tone lighthearted and hoping it stuck. She didn’t think her nerves could handle going into excruciating detail about any of this right then. Oliver followed close behind, saying nothing, and that was nerve-wracking enough.

“All sorts of ordinary things. Then over there,” Felicity pointed to the other side of the room, “our Prince…his life was all  _kinds_  of boring. Stuff like wrestling a jaguar as a toddler, beating an army as a boy, slaying monsters with only his trusty pets beside him…”

“Yes, yes, very boring,” Oliver repeated, and while his tone was of someone playing along with the joke, he still ignored that side of the room to come back to the second set of hand prints. They were surrounded by depictions of the Queen and the Warrior’s life together. “Do you think that is the Gift?”

Oliver pointed to where the Queen was handing the Warrior King a sun-shaped carving.

“Maybe. This hieroglyph here,” Felicity pointed to the left of where Oliver was focused, “is for ‘gift’ and it is the only one that I’ve seen here so far. But I think it says that she is  _giving_  him something, so it might not be  _the_  Gift, just  _a_  gift. It could mean a lot of things, since this scene looks like this it’s depicting a betrothal or some such. And the shape of the present here…” Felicity hurried back to the beginning of the Daughter’s story, “See, it’s the same shape as the ‘sunbeam’ she floats to the ground on. Actually, that shape in present in every one of her panels.”

Felicity walked around, pointing to each of the sun-shapes. They got progressively smaller as the Queen grew, until it fit in the palm of her hand. “Though, this here,” Felicity pointed to the last panel where she was gifting it to the Warrior, “isn’t exactly large enough to carry a baby down to Earth, Superman style.”

“Oh ho,” Oliver teased. “Is this a new theory? Aliens, perhaps?”

Felicity chuckled, giving Oliver an eyeroll, though that was mostly for affect. She was beyond thrilled with his teasing. He wasn’t kidding about trying to be less grouchy. “No. But the shape is clearly significant and I  _do_  think that she is gifting him the medallion we saw the Warrior wearing on the slab in the Temple of The Sun.”

The teasing fled Oliver’s eyes and he shot her a sharp look. He turned back to examine the grown Queen, then the other panels of the two Mayans together.

“And she has the moonstone.” Oliver pointed to where the pendant lay on her chest. Though without the magnifying feature of her glasses working, Felicity couldn’t look close enough to see if the details were the same. “But not until the later panels where they are…married, I presume?”

“That would be my guess,” Felicity agreed. The later panels had the sun pendant around the Warrior King’s neck.

Oliver’s lip quirked. “Your very  _educated_  guess?”

Well, there was no stopping Felicity’s blush after that. “Yes, my very educated guess.” And,  _yes_ , her voice sounded like sandpaper.

Nodding, Oliver’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes moved over the carving. It was absurd that Felicity was jealous of his  _teeth_ , right? “So, it looks like we are looking for a sun pendant and maybe a moonstone one. Assuming we haven’t already found that one.”

Oliver looked pointedly at Felicity and her hand automatically found her shorts pocket, where the moonstone was still snapped safely in place. She nodded. “Until we can find evidence to the contrary.”

“At least, it’s some direction.” Oliver sighed, blowing out a breath. “When we get through this Door. If it  _is_  a door.”

Ah and  _there’s_  Mr. Pessimism again. He was very good friends with Mr. Mood Swing.

“It’s a Door, see these glyphs here,” Felicity pointed, determined not to lose the progress they were making. “It’s identical to what the Door…the  _other_ Door…said. ‘Through these doors lie the House of the Glorious Kinich Ahau, God of the Sun. Enter only his true and righteous servants. Home of the Brave Children of the Sun. Enemies will surely perish,” she read.

_That_  finally seemed to convince him. Oliver had an impressed look (not a glass half-empty frown) on his face. “And it has the same handprints. Except with the piece missing.”

“Yeah.” An irregular shape seemed cut (or broken) from center, where on the outside Door it had had a carved face in the center. Felicity just hoped it didn’t meant this Door was irreparably broken.

“Any idea what may be missing—?”

“Nope,” Felicity cut Oliver off, because thinking about the opening mechanism being broken gave her a whole different kind of anxiety.

“Well, we left the sledgehammer back at camp, but I still have my exploding arrows—”

“Yeah, let’s call that plan D,” Felicity cut off, really hoping Oliver was joking. “Or plan R.” Because, besides the whole desecrating a holy site and curses and whatever, there was the fact that an explosion may very well collapse this entire room.

Oliver just shrugged, saying lightly, “Have it your way.”

Felicity bit back a smile. This was…okay. Good, even. Much better now that they were dry-ish and safe from the storm. Maybe,  _this_  was a good place to start a conversation. _The_ conversation. Felicity could just start telling the truth and see where it got her.

“So…umm…maybe we could talk—?”

“Actually, I uh…” And frak… _that_  face was back. Like,  _instantly_. Oliver locked up and his expression shuddered. “I don’t think I’m up for anything more today. I’m beat. I’m just going to try to sleep.”

Oh.

Okay.

_That_  message was loud and clear.

“Yeah. Of course.”

And as Felicity pretended not to watch, Oliver unfurled his garbage bag bed. She tried to remind herself how exhausted he was. Of course, he wanted to rest. He probably wasn’t feeling up to an emotionally trying conversation and, god knew, this would be as emotionally trying as it got.

So Oliver wanted to sleep? Why wouldn’t he? They could talk about everything tomorrow.  _After_  they were both more well rested. It  _had_  been a ridiculous day.

Felicity told herself that this was for the best.

Tomorrow. They would talk about it tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167301488125/to-sacrifice-the-sun-reread-chapter-5))
> 
> Ok, people, I know the unresolved part of the sexual tension is beyond painful at the moment and you are probably feeling like you can’t stand it one more second (or page. ;-)). So, it’s a good thing that you just officially finished the last chapter of “ _slowbuild_.” The next three chapters are an explosion of feels. All the secrets are coming out. The wait is over…well, the wait is exactly one week, actually.
> 
> Chapters 15-17 are the chapters I’ve been waiting to write since I started this story. They contain three of my top five moments in the entire fic. It’s an  _intense_  and bumpy ride and, personally, I can’t wait.
> 
> All the love and thanks to my lovely beta's **Ireland1733, Fairytalehearts,** and **imusuallyobsessed.** They are my saviors!
> 
> And to all the wonderful readers who stop by the leave me comments, you are  _so_  appreciated and inspiring.
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	16. Chapter 15: The Antechamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, people. This is gonna be a bumpy ride. This one starts out rough, but you’re going to love the end. (And probably the other way around for the next chapter).  Hold on tight.
> 
> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158860960445/previously-on) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 18, 2016_  
_14:32_  
_The Antechamber_

 

So…that fantasy Felicity had?  The one where she spent the entire hurricane naked in Oliver’s arms, having wild passionate reunion sex?

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

It was a stupid fantasy to begin with.  Felicity shouldn’t have allowed herself to indulge in such nonsense.  It was more self-flagellation than anything else, getting her hopes up about something that was _never gonna happen_. 

Because the idea that Oliver was still in love with her… _ha_!  Not a chance!  Over the last, oh… _sixteen_ hours it had become abundantly clear that any positive feeling he had for Felicity was dead.  Like poofed into ashes and spread to the wind _dead_.

And why shouldn’t it be?  Felicity had worked damn hard, five long years ago, to kill Oliver’s love.  Why should she be surprised _now_ that it had worked?

Why should Oliver forgive her when Felicity had done the unforgivable?  The way she had abandoned him without a word, let him believe the worst, it was indefensible. 

And clearly, Oliver agreed.

But it hurt.  It hurt so bad that sometimes Felicity had trouble breathing.  Somehow, she thought maybe it hurt worse than it had five years ago.  But she had been almost numb back then, dead inside. 

Maybe Felicity had shut down so completely she had never fully grieved for… _any of it_. 

Oliver.  Their relationship.  Future motherhood. 

But the thing was, the thing that was just tying Felicity in knots, why hadn’t Oliver just behaved this way in the first place?

If Oliver had been cold and distant from day one, from the first time Felicity had seen him on the beach, if he had been irritable and avoided being alone with her or anything resembling a personal conversation, she wouldn’t have blamed him.  She would have considered it her due but…

Felicity just couldn’t wrap her head around why he had been so kind, why Oliver had _pretended_ to still feel for her.  Because all those times…the ballgame, the Temple of the Sun, breakfast, even when she woke from the bike crash… _that_ man had really seemed to care for her.  Even after everything. 

The man who had flirted and made her a special batch of chili and called her ‘Sunshine’… _he_ liked her.  He wanted to _at least_ be friends.  Felicity was certain of it. 

Maybe. 

Certain was a strong word. 

Felicity wasn’t certain of anything anymore. 

But it really seemed like something had changed.  So what happened?  Where had _her_ Oliver gone?  What had Felicity done to scare him, or _drive_ him, away? 

Well, Felicity knew what she had _done_ …like five years ago _done_.  She just couldn’t think of anything that she had done _recently_.  She had wracked her mind forwards and backwards and upside down and, still, she couldn’t understand it.  None of it made sense.

The thought had occurred to her that maybe Oliver had _pretended_ to still have feelings for her.  To punish her.  To lead Felicity along and leave her devastated, the way she had done to him all those years ago.  That this was all an elaborate and cruel game.  But…

Felicity just couldn’t believe that.  Oliver was still… _Oliver_.  The man she had once known better than she knew herself.  And leopards...or jaguars, as the case may be…they didn’t change their spots.   Who they were, deep down, was who they were.  

Oh, Oliver had his faults.  Plenty of them.  And, at the moment, Felicity could list _every single one_.  In vivid detail.  But he wasn’t… _evil_ like that.  And she didn’t believe that anything that had happened in Russia could have damaged him _that_ much.  Could he be cruel when hurt?  Yes.  But in an impulsive, lashing-out way.   Not in a slimy, manipulative way.  She couldn’t… _wouldn’t_ believe it.

But if that wasn’t what was going on, then Felicity couldn’t think what was.  And that was why, instead of taking this as her just punishment, she was just…really _pissed off_.

Even if Oliver wasn’t being an evil manipulative bastard, he was being an… _asshole_!

The mixed signals, they were really too much to take.

And, yeah, Felicity was well aware of how _profoundly_ hypocritical that was but she…she was _trying_ here. Also, she couldn't remember the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep, so she might not be in the clearest state of mind.

She had tried multitudes of times (many, _many_ multitudes of times) since they had been stuck in this beautiful torture chamber to clear the air.  To apologize.  For the past, for _whatever_ she had done in the last twenty-four hours.  To start a conversation that could and would lead to her telling him what really happened five years ago.

But as soon as the conversation turned the slightest bit personal.  Or, heaven forbid, referenced the past, Oliver shut down so fast Felicity got whiplash.

Her neck was in constant pain from all the times she had tried.  Felicity wasn’t even exaggerating.  That was _definitely_ why her neck and shoulders hurt.  It had _nothing_ to do with the motorcycle crash she had been in just the day before.  Or trying to sleep on solid limestone in a plastic bag. 

Oh, Oliver would talk to her about the carvings, about the frescos, Mayan mythology, or the mission.  Then he was perfectly pleasant.  Well, maybe pleasant was an exaggeration.  Oliver would at least _talk_ about Kin Cuudad or HIVE or even the flavors of the freakin’ protein bars.  As if Felicity were any other agent.  As if they hadn’t once sworn they loved each other more than life itself and spent five years in hell because they were separated.

The flirting Oliver had engaged in before had gone the way of the dinosaurs.  To the point where Felicity started to second guess whether it had ever happened in the first place. 

Yup, if Felicity allowed Oliver to pretend they were merely colleagues he was fine.  Fine fine fricken fine!

But anything else and Oliver became a bear.  Pacing and grunting, lashing out randomly.  And his promise to stop being grouchy…that hadn't lasted through the night.  

Felicity had decided not to put her shirt back on after it dried (and it was ARGUS issue quick-dry, so it dried fast) for no other reason than it seemed to bother Oliver and she was feeling petty.  (Though she was careful to keep her scars hidden.  She wanted him annoyed by her nakedness, not by a reminder of Tikal).

The last two hours of the storm (well, the last two hours of the _bad_ storm, because it was still raining) Oliver had sat at the top of the stairs and stared at the tarp in silence, waiting for the hurricane to pass so he could escape his prison.

 _That_ was how much Oliver couldn’t stand being in the same room as her.

So, yeah, pretty much the exact opposite of Felicity’s fantasies. 

Felicity had gotten so frustrated that she considered throwing things at him.  Or maybe, just yelling out, ‘hey, you wanna know why I left five years ago?  No?  Well too fraking bad, I’m gonna tell you!’

But knowing her, Felicity was pretty sure she’d say something like, ‘Hey, wanna know what organs I had removed after Shadowspire shot me?’ or better yet, ‘It’s a good thing you hate me, because remember those kids you wanted so badly, your never gonna have them with me!’

And really, that would not only be humiliating but…Felicity couldn’t imagine a scenario where that wouldn’t end up even worse than the way things were now. 

Felicity had rehearsed this.  She wanted to tell Oliver in a very careful manner.  This was very delicate.  But the more unreasonable Oliver acted, the less _delicate_ Felicity felt.  And, honestly, there were times when she even questioned if he even had the right to know the big…boob!

Though maybe what Oliver was trying to tell her was that he didn't _want_ to know.   Maybe just spending time with Felicity had been the closure he’d needed to know he was well and truly over her.    Except he was suck with her for the duration of the mission.  But after that…

Well, if that was it…and, god, it hurt to breathe just thinking those thoughts…if that was what was going on in Oliver's head Felicity just wished he would say so instead acting like an irrational, unreasonable…asshat!

Unreasonable, like waiting until the winds just _started_ to die down, the rain at a 20-degree angle and not at 70-degree angle, to decide it was an excellent time to go hunting.   Yes, her sweet _idiotic_ Oliver decided he needed to go hunting.

Hunting!

Because they had been stuck in there for a whole, oh… _twenty-four fricken hours_!  With enough protein bars to last two weeks (that wasn’t an exaggeration), _plus_ the fruit Oliver gathered.  And, yes, this was with Felicity taking into consideration his large frame…

But apparently, they _needed_ fresh game.  And it was dire enough that Oliver needed to brave the tail-end of hurricane.  Clearly, they were going to waste away without fresh meat.

Just thinking about it made Felicity so… _ahhhh_!  She wanted to throw something. 

But the only thing Felicity had at hand was her precious tablet and she wasn’t _that_ far gone.  Oh crap…

Glancing down at the device in her hands Felicity realized…dear _god_ , Oliver had been gone over an hour!

Frak this!

She was going just as stir crazy in this box as Oliver was.  Felicity was tired (had she mentioned she wasn’t sleeping well?), cranky, and covered in sweat and dust and grime, not to mention scrapes and bruises.  She’d only been out to pee once since they’d found this place and…

Felicity was done.  Sooo done.

Letting out a grunt-slash-growl that would have made Jungle Green Arrow proud, Felicity grabbed their pathetic excuse for a toiletry kit and hoisted herself to her cramped and wobbly feet.  If Oliver could get the hell out of here and go into the jungle, then so could she!

She pulled out her ponytail holder and threw it onto her sleeping bag.  Felicity hesitated a moment before deciding to leave her glasses behind.  Though, she did grab a pen tranq first.  She left her boots (she had no desire to get them wet _again_ ) and brought her dirty socks (because she had an extra pair in her day bag.  Everyone knew that clean, dry socks could save your life). 

Felicity also kept a pair of clean panties with her socks.  Most female agents did.  They didn’t take up a lot of room and it was amazing how much a clean pair helped morale.

Outside, the rain was coming down in a steady stream.  But it was warm.  It would be perfect for a shower.  And exactly what Felicity needed to…clear her head.  Well, maybe, not clear it, her head was a fraking mess, but even if it just took the edge off that would be pretty damn wonderful.

She tried to look around for Oliver, but it wasn’t like she could see far without her glasses (she was lucky she could see two feet in front of her face), but she didn’t expect him back any time soon.  Felicity couldn’t imagine that game was plentiful during a hurricane, even if it was the end, and if he wasn’t back by now…clearly, he wasn’t coming back until he found something.

Besides, Felicity fully expected Oliver to milk any excuse he could find to be away from her as long as possible.

Felicity relieved herself behind a tree, not too far from the entrance of the chamber, but stepped back into the open to brush her teeth.  She felt better already.  She only wanted to throw her toothbrush at Oliver, not the largest rock she could find.

Using the soap, she washed her socks and shorts, throwing them over a bush and hoping that would keep them from getting filthy again right away.  Felicity washed her hair… _violently_ was probably the word.  But she had an excess of tension and angry energy built up and this was a healthier way than most to burn it off.

Felicity wondered who she was _most_ angry at?  Herself?  God?  Fate?   _Oliver_?  She never would have imagined that he would have even made the list after what she had done to him.  But there he was.  At the very _top_ of the list of who Felicity wanted to rage at.

Maybe if she could think rationally, she would realize that it still wasn’t fair to blame Oliver, but right now, Felicity had a ball of… _something_ inside her that was about to explode and she was quite certain _that_ was all Oliver’s fault.  Fair or not, she was furious with him.

That was probably why, after she washed her hair (with a bar of soap, which would undoubtedly leave it looking like complete crap), Felicity said ‘frak it’ and peeled off first her bra, then her panties.

Washing both pieces of clothing as she had her socks and shorts, Felicity gave herself one last, heavenly once over with their precious soap.  The warm rain was finally starting to relax her and that had to be worth—

_“Felicity!!”_

The horror (and volume) of Oliver’s voice had Felicity instinctively jumping and crossing her arms to cover her body.  As if this was a bad soap opera.  Should gasp she out an ‘Oh,’ as well? 

God _damn_ it.

“What the _hell_ are you doing!?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes.  Well, so much for finally relaxing.  All the tension sprang right back into her muscles and then some.  She felt shame, on reflex from the reprimanding tone in Oliver’s voice.  But, more than that, she felt ashamed at being ashamed.  At acting like a startled doe in the forest.

God, how Felicity wished she had been able to greet Oliver with her head held high and a droll eyebrow.  Proud and confident. 

But predominately, maybe even _because_ of that, Felicity felt anger.  Mustn’t forget the anger.  Not when there was so _very_ much of it.  Actually Felicity couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this much rage. 

Once upon a time, Oliver would have found finding her showering in the rain arousing.  Enchanting even.   But now all she could see on his face…well, actually she couldn’t _see_ his face.  _Actually,_ he just looked like a big hulking blur.

But his _voice_ …Oliver's voice held nothing but horror and… _disgust_.  And it made Felicity want to start…tearing something into little pieces.  Or someone.  Preferably, a very specific _someone_. 

Felicity made a decision.  Not to be ashamed.  To be strong and proud and…

Not confident, exactly.  But to at least have the veneer of confidence.  Very deliberately she dropped her arms.  Then, straightening up, she turned her back on Oliver.  Not to hide from him.  To reject…well, not Oliver himself, she wouldn’t go that far…but his behavior.

Felicity rejected Oliver's behavior.   So there.  With a flick of her hair and chin high, she refused to let him treat her like…like _rubbish_.   

But it was harder to ignore Oliver’s indrawn breath and the way her nipples hardened in response.  Her stupid, traitorous body.  In that moment, Felicity wished her libido was just a little bit broken the way she had once feared it was.  If Oliver didn’t want her, she didn’t want to want him. 

Before Oliver noticed the impact, he'd had on her body (and, hey, it could totally be because of the cold.  If it _was_ cold) and ruined the entire effect, Felicity snapped, “What do you think I’m doing?”

Felicity thought she heard Oliver gurgle.  In rage or whatever.  Certainly not desire.  No, heaven _forbid,_ Oliver feel any _desire_ for her.  Little skinny awkward Felicity.  She wasn’t sure what he saw in her all those years ago but, clearly, he no longer found her attractive.  The arrogant bastard.

Even though she was done washing, Felicity very deliberately started again, washing her body slowly and keeping her eyes away from him.  It was all for effect, since she couldn't see his reaction. 

Oliver sputtered.  Felicity could hear the undignified sound over the rain and it gave her _some_ satisfaction, at least. 

“ _Fe-lic-it-y_ …” Oliver growled.  “This is fucking _insanely_ dangerous!  What the _hell_ do you think you are doing…flaunting yourself out here?”

“Really, Oliver?” Felicity said, her voice as condescending as his was.  Maybe even more so.  She was rather proud of how well she managed it.  “Because if it’s safe enough out here for you to go traipsing around for _hours_ —”

“I’m—I’m not _naked_ , Felicity!”

“I don’t think the tree the wind pulled out of the ground to knock you over your hard head cares what _you’re wearing_!?” Okay, her irritation was showing.  Clearly Felicity was _done_ pretending everything was fine. 

Actually, Felicity was done pretending all together.  At her limit.  End of the road.  Done.  Done.  _Done_!

Oliver growled.  Even louder this time.  “There are _wild_ _animals_ out here, if you haven’t noticed.  I have a bow and arrow.  You can’t even see two feet in front of you!”

Those were all very valid points.  And... _frak_ Oliver for making them!

“I brought a tranq gun,” Felicity said as nonchalantly as possible, just because she figured it would drive Oliver nuts.  And she wanted him to feel as nuts as she did in that moment.

“Arrhh!” Oliver let out this _howl_ of frustration and it took everything Felicity had not to react.  Then he hissed, “I’m going to go over there and pluck this fucking bird.”  She hadn’t even noticed he was carrying anything but, yeah, big hulking blur.  “Just…finish up, get back in the shelter, and put something _on_ before I get down there!  _Please_!”

Well, since he said ‘please’… 

Felicity rolled her eyes but had no idea if Oliver saw because the blur stomped off, managing to do it loud enough for her to hear, even though it sounded more like sludging through the mud than stomping.

By the time he was out of sight (not that that was saying much given her vision issues) Felicity was sputtering she was so angry.  “That was the prissiest thing you have ever said, Oliver Queen!” she yelled after him. 

And wasn’t _that_ the best come back ever?   The delay made it extra witty.  Awesome.  She was just _sooo_ cool.  Frak, Felicity hated her life.

Afterwards, any enjoyment Felicity had in her make-shift shower was pretty much nil.  And since she had washed herself twice now (using way too much of their limited soap supply), she grabbed her stuff and carefully took the steps back down into the antechamber.  She was too pissed to be worried about falling down the stairs so that, at least, was a plus.

Felicity did take pleasure in the fact that she went down naked as the day she was born.  She had no desire to put on wet clothing just to wear them in that dusty room and get them all grimy again.  Also putting anything on would make her feel like she was giving in to Oliver and… _hell_ to the no!

She hung her wet clothes on the wire and pulled on her now dry t-shirt (no bra. Take that, Mr. Priss!  She hoped it made him _good_ and uncomfortable) and put on her clean panties.  They were boy-shorts so…slightly more modest.  Though, in her present mood she almost wished they were thongs…no, that would be going too far.  Felicity wanted to make him uncomfortable, not come off as a desperate ex trying to seduce him.

Oliver took long enough that she was able to pull out her photo of the old Door (the one that had disappeared underground) and spread it out in front of the _new_ Door.  Felicity settled herself on her bedroll so she could at least _pretend_ to be working when he got back.

It wasn’t too much longer before Oliver did, stomping down the stairs like a petulant child, a scowl on his face (which she could see clearly now that she had her glasses on). When he saw Felicity, he froze.

Ha!  Take that, asshole!

“What the _fuck_ , Felicity?!”

Immediately, she stiffened.  Because even at their worst, Felicity didn’t think he had ever spoken to her like that.  She wondered if she had gone too far.

But Felicity was not backing down now.  In for a penny, in for a pound. 

Throwing what she hoped passed for an innocent look over her shoulder, Felicity batted her eyelashes and asked, “What?”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed and she thought one of them actually twitched.  Felicity would swear she saw steam coming out of his ears, but that was probably just her overactive imagination. 

“That!” he growled, gesturing to her clothing.  Or lack thereof.

What Felicity felt in that moment…yeah, that was _rage_.  Pure.  Beautiful.  Unadulterated.  Rage.

“Since when are you such a fraking prude?  This is field work, Oliver.  We don’t worry about _modesty_ in the field.  My clothes are wet,” she annunciated every word as if she were talking to a moron.  Felicity knew damn well she was pushing _every one_ of his buttons and she didn’t care.  In fact, she relished it.  “What would putting back on wet clothes accomplish, pray tell?”

All Felicity got for her trouble was another grunt.  No… _that_ was a growl.  Oliver turned away and threw his dead bird onto the firewood (the still _wet_ firewood).  He unbuckled his quiver (carefully, because that was something he actually cared about) and took off his own shirt (violently), wringing it out and throwing it over the wire in a messy clump.

Felicity could see Oliver's jaw clenching and unclenching out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to pour over her tablet.  Then the muttering started.

“Mother…fucking…respect...”

Okay, now her blood was _really_ boiling. 

“What was _that_?” Felicity asked in the fakest sweet tone that had ever crossed her lips. 

But Oliver just shook his head.  He continued to mutter under his breath but it was harder to make out the words.  And _maybe_ that just mad Felicity all the angrier.  Hell, it seemed that _everything_ he did just made her more and more furious.

By this point, Felicity was jonesing for a fight and her self-control was at an all-time low.

“I see you brought a dead thing inside to share our space with us,” Felicity commented nastily. 

When had she become nasty?  Sometimes, Felicity wasn’t sure she even recognized herself.

“You mean our _dinner_?” and, wow, Oliver could match her ugly tone pretty well. 

Felicity kept her face angled away from him, so it at least _looked_ like she was focusing on her work.  “Only if you plan to eat it raw, since I’m pretty sure that wood is too wet to light.”

There was a moment of silence.  Then Oliver must have touched the kindling and realized the same thing because he muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath.

Felicity won that round.  So really, she should have let it go at that.  Let sleeping dogs…or more accurately, rabid beasts lie, but she never did know what was good for her. 

“You see, as much as you seem to _think_ we’ve been stuck here for weeks, it’s actually only been a little over twenty-four-hours.”

And then the muttering.  _Again_ …

“It feels like a month.”

Okay.  Felicity couldn’t stand it!  Not one more _fraking_ minute!

She shoved herself to her feet and rounded on Oliver.  “What the _hell_ is up with you?!”

And Oliver’s eyes, his angry intense blue eyes, dragged over her body with so much heat that it made her nipples tight and her brand-new panties damp…

 _O….kay_ …

So… _maybe_ Oliver wasn’t as unaffected by her physically as Felicity had presumed. 

What was that they said about presuming.  Or was it assuming?  Either way…it looked like Felicity had been wrong.  Her whole internal freak-out where she had decided Oliver wasn’t attracted to her any more…yeah, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Because that look…it might be _furious_ , but it was _anything_ but uninterested.

Oliver stood, wearing only his damp cargo shorts, flushed and panting and…Felicity _knew_ , like deep in her soul _knew_ that he still wanted her.  Sexually at least.  An almost primal desire was coming off him in waves.  And her body was reacting to it.  Whether she wanted it to or not.

And, dear god, Oliver was unfairly _gorgeous_ in his rage.  His fists were clenched, bringing the veins in his arms into definition.  Suddenly, Felicity was short of breath.  And, this time, it wasn’t from anger. 

And now…

Felicity had no idea what to do.  She had started this is righteous indignation and…one look in those lust darkened eyes and she was hurled off course.  Not that she was on a particularly clear course to begin with but…

Oliver was still _clearly_ angry.  Just because he _wanted her_ didn’t mean he wanted to _be with her_.  Otherwise why would he keep leaving?  Did knowing he still desired her change everything?  Or did it change nothing?

“What is wrong with _me_!?” Oliver demanded and…well, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to bait him.  Because it was starting to become clear that under that carefully controlled veneer, he was so much angrier than Felicity was.  And that was saying something.  “What _about_ you?”

“I’m reacting to _you_!”  Felicity yelled back, trying to reconnect with that rage she felt before his _eyes_ made her all confused and…anger was so much cleaner.  “Ever since we got into this damn room you’ve been treating me like a leper.  Like you can’t stand to be alone with me!”  And saying it out loud…emotion choked her and Felicity was afraid she would cry.  Did she really want to hear him say this out loud?

“ _I_ can’t stand to be around _you_!?” Oliver was really yelling now.  He rarely lost control, but he was close.  Frighteningly close.  What was wrong with Felicity that a part of her wanted to know what would happen if he did?  “That’s rich, considering the lengths _you’ve_ gone to to get away from _me_!”

Felicity reeled back at that one.  It hurt because it was so true.  She took a breath.   Maybe she needed to stop and remember that no matter what, she hurt Oliver first. 

“Okay,” Felicity said more calmly, her anger draining away whether she wanted it to or not.  “Maybe I deserved that, but that was five years ago and—”

“It wasn’t _just_ five years ago!” Oliver interrupted, the vein in his temple throbbing.  “You ran from me at the beach.  Our teammates had to _force_ you to speak with me!  Clearly, you don’t want anything to do with me!”  Pain poured from him with each word and it cut deep.

“That is absolutely _not_ true!” Felicity argued, not sure anymore who she was trying to make feel better.  “It’s _very clear_ that I’ve wanted to be around you—”

“Clear to _who_?!” Oliver roared. 

Felicity flinched.  Maybe she deserved that as well.  She had been trying so hard to be open with him, but…she knew some of her actions and words must have been hard to understand, easily confused, especially considering all the information Oliver _didn’t_ have.

“I thought we were…” Felicity blew out a breath.  She didn’t even know what she was trying to say anymore.  “I thought we were moving past all that.  I _thought_ we were trying to be…”  What?  She knew what she wanted but looking at Oliver she had _no idea_ what he wanted.  “Friends or…”

And Felicity was a coward on top of everything else.

“Is that what you want?  To be _friends_?” And the way Oliver said ’friends’…it sounded like a fate worse than death.

Felicity didn’t know what to say, how to _begin_ to interpret his words.  Her thoughts were going in a dozen different directions at once and her eyes were burning.  Everything she said seemed to come out wrong.

“I don’t…” Felicity’s loud voice was long gone.  “If that’s what _you_ want?”

“Since when do you care about what _I_ want!?”

And, wow, now _Oliver_ was getting nasty.  And Felicity couldn’t even blame him for it.  Not anymore. 

“Since _always_ —”

“That’s a lie—”

“It’s not!”  And _there_ was Felicity’s loud voice again.  But now… _now_ , Oliver was just being ridiculous.  And stupid and… _mean._  

And it was _not_ true.  Felicity had always cared what Oliver wanted.  _Always_.  She had loved him more than anything.  Still did.

Oliver pulled back a little and took a deep breath, his shoulders stiff and his eyes, oh yeah, _still_ blazing.  “Well, _I_ want to know what _you_ want, Felicity?  What. Do. _You_. Want?” 

Frak…okay…Felicity hadn’t expected Oliver to ask _that_.  But now that he did…it really looked like she was going to have to answer.

How did Felicity even begin to put it into words?  What right did she have to say it out loud with all the secrets still between them?  But what right did she have to deny Oliver the answer to a simple question? 

Yet it was anything but simple, wasn’t it?  And Felicity had promised herself she would only ever tell him the truth, from here on in. 

“I want…” Felicity looked into Oliver’s eyes and saw the anger but also the hurt and knew she put it there.  She drew up her shoulders and said, “I want you…”  Her voice trembled and she took a shaky breath as she took in Oliver’s shocked expression and prayed for courage.  “I want _you_ in my life.  Any way I can have it.”

Did he look _disappointed_ …?  Oh, Felicity hoped not, but Oliver…he definitely looked confused.  Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she rubbed them away angrily. 

“I know I don’t deserve that…or _anything_ really but…” Felicity remembered how things had been between them back at Palenque and felt such longing that the words came.  “I may not deserve it, but if you want to know what _I_ want…well, I want _my_ Oliver back.  I thought I saw him in Palenque.  I thought…but he went away again and I don’t know why and I…”

Felicity trailed off when Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, his jaw working. 

Silence followed.  Long and excruciating and Felicity didn’t think she could stand it…

“Say something!” she burst out, unable to hold it in.  There may be a million things that she hadn’t said ( _yet_ ) but Felicity still felt like she was laying her soul bare and…why wasn’t he answering her?  “ _Anything_!”

Oliver dragged a hand over his face before he finally turned his eyes back to hers.  “I don’t know what to say.  I still don’t know what you _want_ from me—”

And Felicity didn’t know how to be clearer.  “I—”

Shaking his head, Oliver stilled her with a raised hand.  “You…you say you _want_ me.  But how?  Felicity, _how_ do you want me?”

His voice raised with each word and...they made her heart, and somewhere deep inside she long forgotten, clench.  Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but Oliver kept talking.

“Do you want to be colleagues, partners, friends?  I…I thought I might be able to, but I…I don’t know if I can give you any of that.  I thought, back at Palenque…I think, I thought the same thing.  Anything I could get.  I just wanted you back in my life,” Oliver whispered the last words and they made hope burst inside her…but the look on his face was still so devastated.  “I tried to pretend the last five years didn’t happen and…”

Oliver’s eyes…his beautiful _lost_ eyes fully connected with Felicity’s and it took her breath away.  She wanted to yell, ‘Yes!  Yes!  Let’s pretend that!’ though it was absurd and stupid and would never work and—

“But we can’t pretend it didn’t happen,” Oliver murmured, his voice so full of grief.  “ _I_ can’t, anyway, and…and I don’t think I can be your _friend_ , Felicity.”

“That’s—”

Okay.  That’s _o-kay_.  That wasn’t what she wanted anyway.  Felicity wanted so much more than friendship. 

She tried to reassure him but Oliver wouldn’t let her interrupt.  He just kept talking as if Felicity hadn’t even spoken.  “Do you want to know what changed since Palenque?  Why I’ve been such a…such a _grouch_?”

Oliver was silent a good 30 seconds before Felicity realized that, this time, he actually wanted her to speak.

“Yes.” 

It was a mere whisper of a sound.  All she could get out.  God, Felicity was terrified of the answer. 

“I spent nine hours…nine _hours_ , Felicity,” Oliver stepped closer as he spoke, his voice low but intense, “with the woman who….” He blew out a breath and looked away.  “Did you know I’ve _never_ wanted another woman as much as I wanted… _want_ you?”

His words were a sword, piercing straight to her soul and Felicity gasped, a rush of arousal washing over her so strong that it left her trembling.  The only response she could give was to shake her head.

“Of course not,” Oliver rasped.  “You never believed me, even when I told you…”  He drew himself up, taking a step back and Felicity both hated it and was relieved, because it allowed her space to breathe.  “I spent nine hours on a motorbike _not_ made for the goddamn jungle, racing through the _goddamn_ jungle, in a hurricane, with the woman I…who I can’t have—”

“That’s not—”

Again, Oliver wouldn’t let her correct him.  “…who ripped my heart out and who _still_ I _want_ …” 

There was an ugly fierceness to Oliver’s last words and he turned away.  Felicity wondered if he saw her press her hand to her mouth to muffle the sob.

“…who I almost killed in a crash—”

“You _didn’t_!”  Felicity managed to find her broken voice for that.

But even then, Oliver didn’t acknowledge her.  “Wrapped around me…her arms…her legs, her…her hand on my skin…”  He shuddered and his breath hissed.  He turned his hard stare back to Felicity and asked, “Doo you know what I thought about for those nine _fucking hours,_ Felicity?!”

Again, all she could do was shake her head.  And, this time, Felicity really wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

“Not the road.  Or the jaguars.  Or, Christ, Damian Darhk.  Not my best friends who were captured or injured or _dying_ …” Oliver let out a growl and Felicity tried not to flinch.  “I thought…I _tried_ to figure out what the _fuck_ is going on in your head!”

With his last angry bark, Oliver leveled Felicity with a stare that shook her to the core.  He stopped talking then.  He wanted an answer.  But an answer to what?  What was in her head?  As if she fraking knew! 

Oliver shook his head at her.  He looked disappointed at Felicity’s lack of response, but before she could figure out what to say, what he _wanted_ her to say, he was talking again…well, _yelling_ really, “First you run from me on the beach.  Then you seek me out at Palenque.  You want to talk to me.   Then you don’t want to be alone with me.  So I think you’ve been through a lot.   I just need to go slow and see if there’s anything still there…and it seems like there is—”

“Yes.” 

Oliver turned to her and he looked as shocked by her admission as Felicity was.  When he continued, it was with slightly less venom.  “Then…then I think things are going well.  _Felicity_ …” 

His eyes plead with her and Felicity nodded, tears falling, trying to show him…trying to agree or…she didn’t know what she was trying to convey.  Only that, _yes_ , things had been going well.  Could they go back there?  _Please_?

“Then I try to kiss you and you _completely_ freak out!”  Oliver threw up his hands, showing none of the patience he had showed at the time.

And, yup, she’d known that was going to come back to bite her on the ass.  Felicity squeezed her eyes shut.  “I know.   I’m sorry.  I’m just much a mess—”

“So you said!”  But Oliver didn’t seem very sympathetic anymore.  “I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a big deal.  Then…then _I_ did kiss you and you didn’t kiss me back.”

Felicity’s eyes flew back open.  What?  No!  That wasn’t fair.  “I didn’t have a chance.  I was…we were…”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t have time for _anything,_ until…I don’t want to argue about the crash again.” Oliver ran his hand over his face, shaking his head.  “Then came the nine hours.  You know, I had a lot of theories as to why you… _left me_.”

And the pain in those last two words...it was too much for Felicity.  But she deserved it.  That and more.

“And nine hours is plenty of time to revisit every _single_ one of them.  And still, after all that time…nine hours and _five years_ —”

“Five years, three months, fourteen days…no, yesterday it would have been thirteen—”

“See!” Oliver broke into Felicity’s tearful recitation, his hands again out in a helpless confused gesture.  “I don’t _get_ you.  Who…who _does_ that?  Who counts the days, when…when _you_ were the one who _left_ , Felicity.  Without a word.  Without a way to get in touch with you.  You wouldn’t let me _near_ you—”

“I know.  I just…”  Felicity didn’t know what to say.  This conversation had spiraled completely out of her control and she was feeling… _shell shocked_ in the face of everything she had done to him.  She knew she had hurt him, but to hear it out loud…

“Just _what_ , Felicity?”  Oliver’s eyes were haunted.  He ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the ends.  “When you left…it didn’t make sense.  Because the Felicity I knew, that I _loved_ wouldn’t do that.  Suddenly, _nothing_ made sense anymore.  _My_ Felicity wouldn’t do that.  _Nothing_ _made sense_ —”

“ _Oliver_ …” Felicity pleaded.  Panic seized her chest but instead of wanting to run, she wanted to… _needed_ to say _something_ to fix this.  This _needed_ to be fixed.  She didn’t know if she could stand it if it wasn’t.  But _this_ also…really, really wasn’t how she wanted to start her story.  But how could she avoid it now?

“So, I figured it must be something _I_ did.  That you blamed me for Tikal.  That you finally realized I was no good for you.” Oliver kept talking, with no idea the real reason was on the tip of Felicity’s tongue.  “I preferred that, you know?  Because if that was what happened, it meant that our entire relationship wasn’t a lie.”

“It _wasn’t_!”  Felicity was really crying now.  She needed to correct him, but it was so complicated.  She needed Oliver to pause for a moment and give her a chance to gather her thoughts.

“But then you swore to me it _wasn’t_ my fault.”  Oliver almost seemed like he was in his own world now.  Dazed.  “So I began to think that maybe… _maybe_ that last night…and trust me, I re-lived _that_ night a million times.  Replayed it, looking for what went wrong.  I thought maybe I pushed too much.  That I pressured you for more than you were ready—”

“That _wasn’t_ it!”  Felicity was shaking her head frantically by this point.  How could Oliver even think that?  All their beautiful plans.  Sure, she had been nervous, but…to think she didn’t _want_ that.

“Then _what_ is it?”  Oliver finally turned and looked at her again, _really_ looked at her.  His eyes were desperate again.  Wild even.  “Because the only other explanation I can come up with is you were lying all along.  That I never knew you.  That you were _never_ the woman I thought you were.  And then I have to question _everything_ we _ever_ were to one another—”

“No.  _No_!”  Not that.  Please not that!

“That you never _really_ loved me.” Oliver’s quiet words were worse than the yelling. 

“No!” Felicity screamed it this time.  Because there had never been anything _so_ false.  “ _No_!  How can you even question—?”

“How can I _not_?” Oh _god_ , was Oliver going to _cry_?  Felicity couldn’t stand it.  “You left without a word and ever since you’ve been back…every _time_ I think I have a hold on what’s going on in your head, you…nothing you do makes sense.”

“That’s not true.”  Though Felicity wasn’t even sure what he was referring to.  “You knew me… _still_ know me better than _anyone_.” 

It _was_ true.  No one in her life had ever _known_ her like Oliver Queen.  God, Felicity missed that.  And these last few days, she had thought…had _felt_ how well he still knew her.  Knew the _real_ her.

“I thought I did.” Oliver’s voice was rising again.  “But you don’t _make sense_.  First, you don’t want to be near me.  Then I think you still love me but, no, maybe you just want to be friends.  It’s push pull and…the Felicity I _thought_ I knew doesn’t play games.”

“It’s not a game!”

“Then what is… _this_ …” Oliver waved a hand at Felicity’s shirt and legs…her very _naked_ legs. “Walking around here half-naked.  That… _stunt_ outside!  Do you have any idea how hard it is to not touch you!?”

Then why didn’t he?  But instead of saying that (wisely, Felicity believed), she drew herself up and said as clearly and as bravely as she could, “Yes.  I think I know _exactly_ what that is like.”

Felicity met Oliver’s eyes and deliberately tried to be as open as possible. He deserved that much and…she hadn’t figured out what words would convince him how wrong he was but she hoped her eyes could.

He stopped.  Oliver stopped and stared deep into her eyes.  And his were open and vulnerable and searching. 

Finally, Oliver took a broken breath, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips.  “I _want_ to believe you—”

“Then _believe_ me…” Felicity pleaded, taking a somehow _both_ tentative and desperate step forward.  “I _never_ lied to you!  Not _once_ —”

Oliver scoffed, starting to turn away.  “Now, I _know_ you’re lying—”

Felicity caught his arm, stopping him.  “ _Never_!” she yelled it, as if the volume alone would convince Oliver of the truth.  And, yeah, she knew rationally this was not the way to get her point across, but her heart was pounding and the tears were pouring and she was seconds away from breaking down in sobs.  “I don’t even think I am _capable_ of lying to you.” 

If Felicity could just find the right words to explain.  That was why she hid from him all those years ago…

Oliver closed his eyes, shaking his head.  Felicity knew he didn’t believe her and she desperately searched for a way to make him. 

When Oliver opened his eyes again, it was with such a look of raw pain.  “Really?  Because I remember, very clearly, you promising me _always and forever_.”  And, oh wow, _that_ cut to the quick.  “Obviously, _that_ was a lie—”

“It _wasn’t_!” Felicity cut him off fiercely.  With a firm head shake of her own.

The laugh that emerged from Oliver’s throat was ugly as he scrubbed his hand over his face.  Again.  His voice shook when he accused, “You _left_!”

How did Felicity even begin to explain how the two weren’t mutually exclusive?  “I didn’t promise that I would _stay_ always and forever.  I knew that I couldn’t promise we would be _together_ forever.  That was out of my control…”

It was very clear that Oliver wasn’t buying this.  His eyes narrowed and he was looking angry again and _so_ confused…

Felicity needed to _fix_ this.  So she yelled, “I promised to _love_ you always and forever!  _That_ was my promise!”

Another confused noise escaped Oliver’s mouth.  “What…?”

“And I _didn’t_ lie and…” Felicity swiped away the tears, almost defiantly, and she drew herself up as tall as she could on her bare feet.  She was laying herself open here and she had never felt more vulnerable.  “And I _never_ broke that promise.”

“I…” 

Oliver started to speak but…then he froze.  His face went through a rapid series of what must have been a dozen different emotions.  Felicity couldn’t keep up with them all.  She was having trouble even grasping what she had said herself.  What she had admitted.  All she could do was stare at him and…

Then Oliver muttered, “Fucking _hell_.”

After that…

It happened so fast Felicity really didn’t see it coming.   Oliver picked her up and pushed her against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of her. 

Then Oliver’s lips were on hers.

And all Felicity could think was… _thank_ _god_! 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.  There is a definitely Kleenex and Red Wine warning with Chapter 16 (and 17 for that matter).
> 
> All my love and thanks to these three ladies, **Ireland1733** , **Fairytalehearts,** and **imusuallyobsessed**.  I made them go through these chapters multiple time in my obsessiveness and poor **Ireland1733** went through a whole box of Kleenex. 
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  


	17. Chapter 16: The Antechamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes with a warning for discussion of infertility and loss and for _very_ heavy feels. I think you all are going to love this chapter until…well, the cliffhanger is BRUTAL (and, yes, those all caps were necessary).  God, knows I love my cliffhangers, but this is the first one that comes with a warning.
> 
> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158860960445/previously-on) **.**
> 
> Happy reading!

_September 18, 2016_  
_15:10_  
_The Antechamber_

 

It wasn’t a gentle kiss.

It wasn’t tentative as Felicity had imagined it would be after… _everything_.  With both of them so unsure and…

It was hard and rough and passionate.  Possessive.  It was all teeth and lips and tongues.  Pain and pleasure.  Relief and… _release_. 

It was everything. 

Almost too much and not nearly enough.  Never enough.

It wasn’t what Felicity had thought it would be.  How could she have fathomed… _this_?   This was beyond even her rather vivid imagination.  Beyond fantasy.   Beyond anything she had ever experienced. 

Her heart was pounding and she couldn’t breathe.  Felicity was drowning and she never wanted to stop.

Felicity had put a lot of thought into what their first kiss, after  _so_  long, might be like.  Their second  _first_  kiss. 

During their long bike trip to the Doo, while Oliver was, apparently, remembering every bad thing that had happened in the last five years, Felicity was imagining kissing him in a hundred different ways.  All the ways she had missed out on during those five years, three months, and upteen days.

It hadn’t prepare her for this.  

It all happened so fast.  It took Felicity’s brain awhile to catch up with the rest of her, to process what was happening.  Where she was.  What she was doing.   What  _he_  was doing.

One minute they were yelling at each other.  The next they were wrapped together, devouring each other.  Oliver opening her lips...there wasn’t any prying involved.  Maybe Felicity had opened to him intuitively.  Or maybe he’d just caught her gasp. 

Maybe it didn’t matter in the slightest.

What mattered was that Oliver had lifted her, one large hand curled under her scantily clad ass (and, _god_ , the decision to leave off her shorts was one of her best) and pressed her against the limestone wall.  Felicity didn’t hesitate, hopping up and winding her legs around his slim hips. 

It was instinct.  A motion that was written into her muscles and bones.  So visceral that she didn’t even realize she had done it until she was off the ground, only the limestone and Oliver’s strong hands holding her up.

With his other hand, Oliver cradled Felicity’s head, angling it, pulling her closer and, at the same time, protecting her from the hard stone behind her.

Wasn’t that just Oliver in a nutshell?  Leading her into danger while protecting her with everything he had.  

Except Felicity wasn’t allergic to Oliver the way she was nutshells, which…thank goodness, since his tongue was tangled with hers and his lips were pressed so tightly against her own that they would likely ache tomorrow, swollen and bruised, the corners stinging and raw.  But that was okay.  It would be a good kind of hurt.  The kind Felicity would relish, touching the abused flesh gingerly with her fingertip and smiling at the memory.

That was, if this didn’t all blow up in Felicity’s face after she told Oliver the truth. 

_No_.  She would still cherish the memory.  Even if everything fell apart.

But Felicity wasn’t going to think about that now.  She  _refused_  to ruin this moment.  This perfect  _incredible_  moment. 

It was everything Felicity had been missing from her life.  She was going to savor Oliver’s taste and smell and the feel of his hair between her fingers and the warmth of his tongue.

And if this was the last time Felicity would experience this, then she was going to cherish every second. 

God, Felicity was going to do  _everything_  she possibly could to make sure this wasn’t their last time.  Desperation surged at the mere thought and she pulled him still closer.  

She needed this.  _Oliver_.  She needed  _Oliver_.  Felicity couldn’t…she  _needed_  to fix this so she… _they_  could keep having this.  Forever.

Because  _this_ …how  _this_  felt, the incredible  _rightness_ , it couldn’t just be her.  And the way Oliver held her, Felicity knew he felt it to _o._  

And it wasn’t something that could or  _should_  be thrown away.  It was too rare. 

God, she’d been so  _stupid_.  How could she have been  _so_  stupid?  She had thrown this all away all those years ago.  It was perfect and wonderful and pure and she hadn’t understood. Felicity had thought she was doing it for Oliver but…it was the  _stupidest_  thing she had ever done.

Being back in Oliver’s arms now, feeling like she belonged…it was something she hadn’t dared allow herself to contemplate in so long.  She knew why too.  Because if she had, she would never have been able to stop thinking about it.  And with Oliver stuck in Russia, thinking about it…it would have driven her insane.  Irreversibly insane.

But he was here now.   _Finally_.  Oliver was in her arms.  And this was  _right_.  This was how it was  _supposed_  to be.

Even though it was hard to keep up with Oliver’s passion, with the intensity of his kiss.  Which was really saying something, because Felicity had a lot of pent up passion and intensity.  Like a lot  _a lot_.

But, somehow, Felicity had managed to push Oliver too far.  She had wanted him to lose control and he had.  And now, the kiss was…all consuming.  Overwhelming, even.  Increasingly so.  As it went on and on and on… 

They had both been wound so tight over the last couple days and now that they had let that spring go…it was…flying.  Uncontrollable.  It was a crash _._ An explosion.  And Felicity was _so_ incredibly glad that it was.

One might have interpreted the kiss as punishing even.  And maybe Oliver  _needed_  to punish her a little.  God knew, there was plenty for him to want to punish her for…but there was _adoration_ in this kiss as well.  Care.  Felicity could feel it in her bones and it made her feel alive again.

Oliver was exploring every inch of Felicity’s mouth in a way that made her feel treasured, like nothing else ever had.  It also made her so very glad she had taken the time to brush her teeth. 

She just really hoped Oliver was enjoying this as much as she was.  He certainly  _seemed_  to.  It was staggering how much.  And maybe Felicity was even glad she had gotten naked in the middle of the goddamn jungle.  Because she could  _feel_  him.  Hard and throbbing against her.

How long had Oliver been like that?  Their sturdy cargo shorts were excellent at hiding all sorts of sins.  Had he been hard since he’d seen Felicity in the rain?

Was  _that_  why Oliver had been so short with her?   _So_  irrational?  Had he been driven to the edge with desire… _need_? 

God, Felicity hoped so.

That hadn’t been her intention when she stripped naked in the jungle.  Not consciously, anyway.  But, god, Felicity was certainly happy with the result. 

Because now it was clear (crystal clear, like the feel of stubble against her chin and the firm pressure of his nose against her cheek and his fingers massaging her scalp… _clear_ ) that what had felt, at the time, like hatred and disgust had been hurt and…the most  _intense_  sexual tension known to man (or woman).

One sharp well-placed hit and the bomb of UST exploded…

Not that they had  _exploded._    Yet. 

It wasn’t going to take much more though.  What with the way they were rocking and rubbing against each other, Oliver’s fabric covered cock pressed tightly against Felicity’s panty covered core and…

Wow, Felicity really hadn’t even made the conscious decision to start grinding against him like this.  Like a sex starved animal.  Which was what she was.  Sex-starved.  Love-starved.   _Oliver-starved._

God, Felicity wanted him in  _every_  possible way.  Now and forever.  _Always and forever_.

For a moment, Felicity moved beyond the awe and the rightness and the shock of this  _was actually happening_ and realized just how aroused she was.  How close she was to exploding right then and there in Oliver’s arms.  All she’d have to do was let go…

But Felicity didn’t want that.  Not without Oliver inside her.  After all this time, it had to be  _together_  or not at all.

Felicity’s eyes burned and her throat itched and the tears that had stopped the moment Oliver had taken her in his arms crept back ad she pulled him closer.  She wasn’t sure there was a closer to get, not without getting rid of these clothes and pulling him inside her but…well, she tried anyway.

It wasn’t enough though.  Felicity wanted so  _badly_  to make love with him.

But she couldn’t. 

Not until Oliver knew  _everything._  And could make a decision based on…well, based on the  _truth_.  If Felicity let him make love to her and  _then_  told him…

She couldn’t do that to him.  To herself.  Because if Oliver left her then…

Oh, who was Felicity kidding?  It would devastate her no matter how, or when, he left.  Her only hope was to keep it from happening all together.

But Felicity was tempted.  Tempted to get one last taste.  One last time.   _Just in case_ Oliver walked away forever. 

But that wouldn’t be fair.  And if they were going to start over (please, god) then Felicity needed to start how she wanted to continue, how they  _needed_  to continue.  With complete honestly and trust.

So, instead, Felicity touched every inch of him, everything she could reach, anyway.  Relearning him.  Memorizing him.  Not that she had forgotten a thing.  It was amazing how little she had forgotten, really.  Even things she thought she had, came back in a rush. 

But there  _were_  things that were different and Felicity wanted to know every new scar, every change.  Completely.  Intimately.  She wanted to trace every detail of the new tattoo on his chest.  Explore how his shoulders were broader. His muscles more well-defined.  It made her wonder if  _Oliver_ had been eating enough and…

God, Felicity had missed him.  So much she couldn’t even fully comprehend it.  She wanted to take care of him, to love him, to never stop.

Her hands were frantic as they ran through his short(er) hair, traced his features, as she ran her thumbs along the edge of Oliver’s soft stubble.  Felicity splayed her palm across the nape of his neck so she could feel the play of muscles under his skin as he put his whole self into the kiss.  The kiss that just kept going.  That she couldn’t bring herself to end.  Or even  _want_  to end.

Just the thought of it made Felicity suck hard on Oliver’s tongue and arch closer, until her breasts were almost flat against his chest, her nipples pebbled between them.  She pulled at him with a desperate hand on his shoulder.  His beautiful powerful shoulder.  She wanted to run her lips over every inch of him… 

Later.

_Please_ , god, let there be a later.

Then, without warning, the kiss softened, became gentler and, suddenly, it felt like Oliver was drinking her up, savoring every touch and…the tears that Felicity had barely been holding back broke free.

Oliver caught some with his thumb, but others made their way down Felicity’s cheeks to mingle in their kiss, the taste of salt shared as it washed over their tongues.

This was more of what Felicity had imagined their second first kiss would be.  Slow and careful.  Sweet.  A relearning. 

Felicity was almost certain this was how it would have happened if they had kissed in the Temple of the Sun.  If her stupid panic attack hadn’t ruined everything.

And now, after the revelations Oliver made…Felicity realized that that panic attack, along with the run on the beach, every little thing that could have been taken as rejection, _had_  been taken as rejection. 

Unintentionally, Felicity had been turning Oliver inside out since the first moment they had set eyes on each other again.  The poor man, he had already been so confused and hurt by her behavior.  Every signal she had given, they must have baffled him.  It made her sick to think of what Oliver had been going through.

Felicity poured all her acceptance and her  _love_  into this kiss.  Because even if it had gentled, the passion, the intensity hadn’t dimmed in the slightest.  She tried, tried  _so_  hard to make it very, _very_ clear just how  _not_  rejected Oliver was.

He pulled back with one last nipping kiss to her lower lip.  And, for the first time since Oliver had touched her, Felicity she felt that ugly panic.  Because…no no no…she wasn’t ready for it to end.  Wasn’t ready to let go and… _talk_. To risk it all.

Just one more minute….one more….

Felicity chased his lips, but she couldn’t catch more than one more sweet nip.  Once she realized that was all she was going to get, she tried to meet Oliver’s eyes, she really did, but in that moment all she could do was curl her fingers into the muscles of his back and shoulders and squeeze her eyes shut, praying for control.

“You’re crying,” Oliver whispered against her lips, panting softly.  His forehead pressed into hers and she knew her glasses were biting into his skin, but he didn’t seem to care and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it.  She couldn’t bear any extra distance and she wanted to see his eyes, his everything… 

“I missed you,” were the words that popped out of her mouth.   They were beyond inadequate, but Felicity hoped the emotion behind them carried.

Felicity thought they did, because when she was finally able to pry her eyes open, Oliver’s expression was vulnerable, unguarded, and so very loving. 

Her breath caught and Oliver asked, his voice raspy, “Did you mean…?  When you said you never broke your promise…?”

“That I still love you?”  Felicity gave a teary, self-deprecating laugh.  There was no holding back now, was there?  Why  _would_  she?  “That I’ve  _always_ loved you?  That I never stopped? That I don’t think I could  _ever_  stop?”  Her voice cracked, tears falling freely now.  “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

_“Fe-li-ci-ty…_ ” Oliver said her name softly, barely a breath, like prayer.  And, as if he was letting her words wash over him, his eyes slipped closed and Felicity could  _feel_  his muscles unwind one by one as he melted into her.

It brought emotion bubbling up inside of her, the need to reassure, to give him… _everything_.  The tears came even faster and Felicity babbled, “I love you.  Just in case that wasn’t clear enough.  I  _love_  you.  I always have.  I’ve never lied to you about that or anything…except that one time about your birthday present, but that really doesn’t count…”

A laugh rumbled through Oliver’s chest, vibrating against her.  “No, it doesn’t.”  His voice sounded as watery as hers.

“I think I’ll love you forever…”  This was one of those times Felicity didn’t think she could stop talking if she tried.  She didn’t try.  “Even if you don’t want me—”

Oliver’s sound of distress was muffled and distorted by his lips again pressing to hers.  Over and over.  He cupped Felicity’s chin and drank at her lips. 

It wasn’t as deep and passionate…no, that was wrong.  It was just as passionate, just in a different way.  There was a depth of emotion in Oliver’s kiss that took Felicity’s breath away.

Oliver’s shoulders shook beneath her palms with barely controlled sobs and Felicity swore that some of the tears she tasted were his.  She stroked his back, trying to soothe him.  Her own tears were completely unchecked now. 

When he pulled back, Oliver’s breath hitched and Felicity could feel him trembling as he asked, “Then  _why_ , Felicity?”  A sob broke through and it tore into her.  “ _Why_  did you leave?  I’ve been over it from every angle and I don’t—”

“You couldn’t.”  How could he, without all the information?  “Oh Oliver, I’m  _so_  sorry.”  Felicity stroked his jaw.  That was trembling as well.  As was her hand.  What a pair they were.  “You were… _are_  missing a huge piece of the puzzle.  I made sure of that and I’m…I’m so  _so_  sorry.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed and he shook his head, confusion settling over his face, though his grip on her didn’t loosen.  It, somehow, stayed both gentle and firm.  “Then…why?  I  _need_  to know.” 

God, had Oliver ever let himself be this vulnerable before?  It was painful to watch.  He was giving her too much power over him.  Felicity didn’t know if she had the strength to bear it.   She was _certain_  she didn’t deserve it. 

“Felicity, please.  I need—”

Pressing her thumbs over his lips, Felicity stopped the flow of words.  She couldn’t take it.  “Okay.  Okay…”  She nodded and it felt wobbly and uncoordinated. 

But it was time.  Felicity knew it was time. 

That didn’t stop her from being terrified, though. 

“I’ll tell you.  I just…”

Felicity took a deep breath. She was still wrapped in his arms, pressed between Oliver and the wall.  And it was wonderful.  But she was never going to be able to say what she had to say without… _space_.

Space.  It was the last thing in the world she wanted.  Felicity  _wanted_  to stay this close to Oliver indefinitely.  But the words would never come out the way she needed them to like this.  She couldn’t think clearly enough.  And he needed to hear them.  Now.  It couldn’t wait any longer.

Still…Felicity couldn’t bring herself to ask him.  To put her down.  Instead, she looked pointedly down at their bodies and bit her lip.  Somehow, Oliver understood her wordless communication,  _proving_  he still knew her better than anyone. 

Oliver stepped back, allowing her legs to slide to the floor as his hand fell to her waist.  Which was really a good thing, both because a complete loss of touch at that moment would have been awful  _and_  because Felicity’s legs were like jelly.  Wow, how long had they been kissing like that? 

A giddy sort of elation bubbled up inside her at the thought.  It gave her strength, but it didn’t last.  Felicity looked up at Oliver and knowing what she had to do now…she took in a lungful of air and…

_God_ , she was scared.

Without thinking, Felicity stepped back into him, her arms curling around Oliver’s waist as she buried her face in his chest, breathing him in, trying to control her trembling.  She  _needed_  this. 

Just one more minute.  For courage.

Oliver hugged her back just as tightly, bending over her and burying his face in the space between her shoulder and neck.  Felicity wondered if he knew he was breathing life into her.

How come she hadn’t realized that all this time she was only half-alive?  Without this, without Oliver, Felicity was just going through the motions.

What was she going to do if…?

No.

_No_.  Felicity was done asking that.  She was going to have to fight for it.  For  _them_.  That was the only answer.  She had to fight like  _hell_  to get Oliver to understand, to get him to forgive her.  She would do whatever necessary.

Okay, now Felicity had moved past trembling to shaking.  That and crying was all she seemed to be able to do.  Though, what did she expect, all things considered?  Felicity took two large, deep breaths, inhaling as much of Oliver’s scent as she could, before she forced herself to pull out of his embrace.

This was so  _hard_.

As soon as she had her limbs to herself again, Felicity started to wring her hands.  A habit she had picked up from Caitlin but, at the moment, it seemed to be the only way to keep her hands to herself.  And to not run and hide.

It was now or never.  Felicity met Oliver’s eyes and they were so loving, so accepting…but, really, it was the fear she saw lingering just beyond the surface that that got her to start talking. 

“Okay, so…uh, you should know that I’ve only said this out loud once.” 

Because, for some reason, it was really important to Felicity to adjust Oliver’s expectations for this conversation, to make sure he knew how hard this was for her,  _before_  she started to babble like an idiot and go off on tangents. 

“To Caitlin and that was…well, I didn’t even tell her until I found out you were leaving for Russia, when I was so upset I…I just needed help, someone to…give me  _some_  sort of guidance—”

“And she told you to tell me.” Oliver whispered it. 

Was he upset it had taken a conversation with Cait for Felicity to come to that conclusion?  And that even then, it was too late?  It was hard to read Oliver’s expression.  Not because it was shuttered or shut down like before, but because there were  _so_   _much_  there. On his face.  In his eyes.

“Yeah.”  Felicity’s breath hitched just from looking at him.  But she had already told him this part so if she couldn’t talk about  _this,_  they were screwed.  “I hadn’t expected…I was so upset at the idea of you taking the Bratva mission, I would have done anything to stop it.  You have to believe that was the  _last_  thing I wanted for you.” 

Felicity had no idea why him knowing that was so important to her, but it was.  Maybe because if Oliver didn’t believe she had been, at least,  _trying_ to do all of this out of love there was no hope of him forgiving her.

“I believe you.  I…” Oliver’s eyes slipped closed for a moment and his tongue peaked out to wet his lips as he shook his head.  “I don’t understand, but I…I believe you.”

And, somehow, that faith…it almost started the tears again.  Felicity ran her palms over her eyes and down her cheeks, brushing away the last remnants of wetness, rubbing away the burn.  She had no doubt that she would be crying again before the end, might as well start with a clean slate.

“I’m only telling you this because I want you to understand how…why…”  What  _was_  she trying to say? Felicity was losing track.  “That it’s really hard for me to talk about, so if it comes out all weird and halting and babbling, it’s not that I’m avoiding telling you or—”

That finally earned Felicity a small smile and Oliver reached out to grab one of her wildly flapping hands.  “I understand.  I’m only the second person you’ve told,” he repeated quietly, in a tone that told her she had, at least, succeeded in letting him know how hard this was.  “But, Felicity, I think I’m used to the babbles by now.”

The look he gave her gave her hope.  And made  _Felicity_  smile and Oliver smiled back and for a moment things were wonderful again. 

If only she didn’t have to keep going.

“I should have told you right away.”  Felicity, briefly, squeezed her eyes closed and his hand tight.  “You should have been the first and not the…well, third, I guess.  I forgot.  I also told that therapist they made me see after Tikal, but only  _after_  you left for Russia and I was so devastated…”

Oliver’s face fell.   _Frak_ , why had she said that?  Felicity didn’t know how to take it back so she kept babbling, saying nothing important, “I fired her, eventually.  Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

Felicity broke off when Oliver let out a string of curses.  He let go of her hand in favor of running his hands over his face and tugging at his hair.  “I shouldn’t have gone.  I should have—”

“No!” 

If Oliver was  _already_  blaming himself, they were in trouble.  Felicity lurched forward, so quickly she almost tripped.  Her hands landed on her chest and she looked up at him, trying to express how important this was. 

“ _No_.  This is a rule.  If I tell you this, you need to promise me that you  _won’t_  blame yourself.”

Oliver looked away, letting out a little huff as he shook his head.  She knew what she was asking was a lot for him.  “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ —”

“I’m serious.  This is what kept me from telling you back at the Beach House.” Among other things.  Like crippling fear and anxiety.  “The worry that you would blame yourself and I can’t…I can’t add to that, Oliver.  I can’t.  I’ve already caused you too much hurt...”

Felicity might have been getting a tad hysterical, because Oliver placed his hands over hers, where they were lying on his chest, and squeezed, saying, “Okay.  Okay,” in a worried, placating way.  Like he was trying to calm a mental patient.  It was appropriate.

But it wasn’t like Felicity could stop now.  “It’s not your fault.   _None_  of it’s your fault.  It was  _all_  me and, well…okay, maybe not  _all_  me.  But there was  _no_  part that was you and I can’t have you twisting it—”

“Shhh.  Okay.  Okay.  I…” Oliver took a deep breath, his face becoming solemn.  “I’ll try my best, Felicity.  That’s all I can promise.”

Felicity’s lower lip started to tremble.  She bit it to get it to stop.  It wasn’t enough.  She wanted a guarantee,  _goddammit_!  But, at the same time, she knew so few things in life came with guarantees and, knowing Oliver as she did, she knew this was him trying, being honest.   He only had so much control over how he felt.  God knew, if she could control how  _she_  felt…well, life would be very different.

She searched his face.  Then, finally, Felicity nodded.  Oliver was as open to this as he was going to get. 

“Well…” Felicity drew herself up tall.  “When you start to go down that road, that well-worn, Oliver-Queen-is-responsible-for-everything-that-ever-went-wrong-with-the-world road…just remember what I said.  That  _no part_  of this is your fault.  It was  _my_  stupid decision and…Shadowspire and Reiter and maybe even stupid fate, but  _not_  you.”

“Reiter?  What did he do?”  Oliver’s demeanor changed.  Instantaneously.  His back went rigid and his eyes hardened.  He was back in protection mode.  Looking for someone to fight.  Too bad everyone responsible was long dead.  It was a battle they had already won.

Yup.  There had never been a more hollow victory.

Felicity swallowed. “I’m getting to that part.”

She hadn’t realized she had started pacing until Oliver grabbed her arm, stopping her.  “Maybe, we should sit down,” he offered gently, but Felicity could still see the hardness lingering in his eyes. 

Maybe that was a good thing.  Maybe it would give Oliver some measure of control.   _One_  of them should be in control.  Of  _something_.

Felicity nodded, though she really wasn’t sure she could sit still.  Then again, if she kept this up, she’d probably make them both dizzy. 

Oliver led her over to the bedroll and sat down cross-legged on top, gently tugging on her hand until Felicity sat across from him.  She started to mirror his position, then realized she wasn’t wearing pants. Or shorts.  Or much of anything.  An idea that seemed really stupid right then.  She tucked her feet under her, pulling nervously at the hem of her t-shirt.  Felicity almost jumped when she felt Oliver’s hand on hers.

 “Where is the woman who brazenly strutted around the jungle buck naked?” Oliver teased.

Felicity wrinkled her nose, feeling her cheeks heat up.  She glanced at Oliver through her lashes but couldn’t hold his gaze.  “Righteous fury can make a girl bold.” 

Oliver chuckled, but his eyes were apologetic.  “Sorry about…pushing you away, I mean.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be you around you…”  He gave a self-deprecating snort. “Actually, it was that I  _wanted_  to be around you, to  _touch_  you, too much and I…I spent 9 hours on a bike, with you pressed behind me, convincing myself that you couldn’t possibly want the same thing—”

“That is  _so_  not true—”

“I know…” Oliver reached out and cupped her cheek.  “I know that now, but I…”  Letting out a nervous breath, he leaned forward and kissed her, slow and lingering, and Felicity was just about ready to give up on this silly  _talking thing,_  when he pulled back and said, “It would really, really help if I knew why you left.”

Of course, it would. 

Or maybe not, depending at how he took the news.

Oliver sat back and Felicity nodded, her eyes fixating on his fingers as her nervous fingertips ran over the back of his hand.  Finally, she confessed, “I don’t know where to start.”

“I find the beginning is always a good choice.”  Oliver’s voice was soft and husky, warm. 

He turned his hand over as he said it.  Felicity wasn’t sure if it was an invitation, but she took as such, fitting her palm to Oliver’s and watching in an almost amazed fascination as their fingers laced together.  Everything was fitting back together. 

Frak, she couldn’t mess this up now.

Swallowing, Felicity nodded again.  At least her neck muscles seemed to work, since her voice wouldn’t.   She snuck another peek at Oliver and the encouraging look in his eyes…and the words came, “So, okay, first off, I want to make sure you understand that I meant _everything_ I said that last night before Tikal.”

That was the beginning, right?  Felicity felt like she needed to go back  _before_  Tikal.  It felt wrong to start with that night.  Too abrupt.  Too harsh. 

“I had every intention of moving in with you after…” Felicity’s voice broke and a tear slipped free.  Crap, if she couldn’t get past  _this_  part without weeping, she was really in trouble. 

Oliver reached out with his free hand and caught the tear.  “I understand.  Now.”

She had to keep going.  She couldn’t afford to pause now.  She needed momentum, goddamn it.  Felicity met Oliver’s gaze and it felt a little bit like she was drowning.  “It was one of the best nights of my life.  Truly.”  Her voice was a wreck, but she supposed she should just be glad her words were comprehensible.

"Mine too."  Oliver's voice was just as wrecked.  Felicity wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.  "That's why I couldn't under—”

“I know.  I know.”  Maybe this  _wasn’t_  the best place to start.  “I just…okay, you said to start at the beginning, but that was  _before_  the beginning.  I mean, nothing had happened yet…god, I’m not even making sense, but I started here to say that it hadn’t started yet, that I  _hadn’t_  lied. I—”

Oliver smiled through the anxiety that was evident on his face, squeezing her hand.  “It’s okay.  I’m following.  I think.”

Felicity nodded.  It was a bit wobbly, but she felt she needed to acknowledge his reassurance as she kept going, “And I hadn’t kept any secrets either.  I…I know you think I kept my premonition from you…if it even  _was_  a premonition.  But it wasn’t a  _conscious_  decision to keep it from you.  At that point, I just thought it was, I dunno, worry, paranoia… _fear_.  And you knew…didn’t you know—?”

“I did.  I knew you were afraid.”

God, it sounded like the two of them had swallowed a hand full of sand.   “It never occurred to me that I was even withholding anything.  Not then.  I just wanted to…to hold onto everything good in that moment and never let go.”  Was this even important?  Was Felicity just talking about  _this_  so she could avoid the truly painful parts for as long as she could?

“Yeah.  Me, too.”  Oliver squeezed her hand and when Felicity met his eyes…she got lost for a moment, forgetting everything but…but then he prompted, “So when…?”

Oliver must be so tired of her not getting to the point.

“At the hospital,” Felicity blurted out.  Was it okay to just say it like that?  Was there any _other_ way to say it?  Of course, there was.  If she wasn’t a  _complete_  spaz.  “Well, that’s where I found out…no, I guess, that was where it  _happened_ …”

“Felicity?”

At his tone, sharper this time, Felicity’s eyes flew back to his face.  Oliver was scared.  He was holding his breath.  Frak.

Gulping through a too tight throat, Felicity gathered her strength. “There were complications, Oliver.”

Oliver sat back, his hand not completely withdrawing, but only their fingers were touching now.  Felicity could see the wheels turning, the connections being made.  She held her breath.

“From…from the  _gunshot_  wound?”

Yup, and…Oliver  _already_  sounded devastated.  This was going to be bad.

“Yes.”  Then Felicity nodded, because she wasn’t entirely sure that was audible.

“But...” Oliver was shaking his head, almost like he could make it not be true by denying it.  “No one said anything.  The doctors…Shado—”

“I…”  Shado.  Poor Shado, who had wanted so badly to tell Oliver everything.  “It happened while I was in surgery.  I think you were…”

“Knocked out.”  Oliver’s jaw hardened.  “Because I couldn’t fucking control myself,” he trailed off as his eyes found a spot that was  _away._

And here they go...

Felicity grabbed his other hand, squeezing hard.  “Hey,  _remember_ , not your fault.”

Lips thinning, Oliver met her gaze and held it.  Finally, he gave her a sharp nod, though he looked far from convinced.  The man could find a way to blame himself for anything.  He probably blamed himself for the hurricane…

Though Oliver  _had_  blown up those tombs…

_So_  not the point.  Felicity’s brain was still trying to avoid the final bombshell.  But this was it.  There was no going back now. 

“You were…sleeping after being very  _understandably_  upset and…” Felicity laughed.  A crazy person’s laugh.  She couldn’t help it.  “The irony of the whole thing was that Shado hadn’t wanted to tell me until you had woken up.  She wanted to tell us together.” 

Would that have changed anything?  Everything?  If Felicity had trusted Shado’s judgment and waited?  Probably…

Oliver’s hands squeezed hers and he leaned forward.  Felicity had to keep going before she lost her nerve.  There was no one  _here_  to tell him but her. 

"I made her tell me. I…I quoted woman’s lib and brow-beat her and…well, Shado told me everything.  Against her better judgment.  I’m quite sure she regrets it too.”  Felicity could tell Oliver wanted to say something, but he didn’t.  Probably knew his best chance at getting the whole story was just to let her run-away tongue go.  “She told me about Ronnie, Slade’s eye…Sara was still in surgery and Digg just out and I…”

Felicity sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.  She couldn’t finish  _and_  look at Oliver at the same time.  “When Shado told me about my…I wouldn’t let her tell you…or anyone…” She opened her eyes.  Suddenly, intent at making sure Shado didn’t take any of the blame for this mess.  “I evoked doctor-patient confidentiality.  She was so upset about it…but I had my records sealed…I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“But… _why_?” Oliver sounded so confused.  Confused and afraid and…betrayed.  Hurt.  So hurt.  She was still holding his hands, but…he had stopped holding hers.

_God_ , Felicity hated this.

“I…” Oliver’s voice sounded so raw.  “I could have helped…I could have…why wouldn’t you want me to—?”

“Oh Oliver, I  _did_.  I  _did_  want you.”  Felicity could tell that Oliver didn’t quite believe her and if her heart wasn’t already shattered in a million pieces…she pulled a hand back to rub her face.  “I really don’t expect you to understand why I did what I did.  Sometimes, I don’t understand myself, but I was in pain…physically, mentally.  I was devastated by all of it…”

The look on Oliver’s face kept getting worse, so Felicity sped up her words, trying to get it all out.  At this point, the longer it took the worse it would be.  “The thing is…I felt like I would never be happy again.  That Cait and Ronnie, their happiness had been destroyed and all I could think was that I could still save you.  That  _you_  could still have a happy future.”

Oliver lurched back, withdrawing so that he wasn’t touching her at all now.  “You thought…how could you think  _that_?” 

It was an accusation and…

Great, this wasn’t even the bad part.  This was the part where Felicity softened the  _blow_  for the really bad part.

Rubbing her forehead (her head was starting to pound) Felicity fought tears and murmured, “Like I said, I was stupid.”  Because that was the only excuse she had left. The more she was face to face with Oliver, the more her reasoning and choices seemed incredibly misguided.

“But…but what complications?  I still don’t understand.  What  _condition_?  You’re  _fine_.”  Oliver’s voice was getting progressively closer to hysteria as he gestured to her.  His eyes swept her body, the fear in them not even a little hidden.  “You’re  _healthy_.  They wouldn’t have put you back in the field if you weren’t  _healthy_?”

Felicity scoffed, fighting the urge to dissolve into ugly laughter.

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …it resolved,  _right_?  You’re  _fine_?”  And if the intensity in Oliver’s voice could make it so, surely it would.

Blowing out a breath…suddenly, Felicity just felt sad.  So, so sad.  Maybe even a little defeated.  “Oliver…” She gathered the last of her strength.  “I am.  Healthy.  I guess.  But the condition…that’s permanent.”

Oliver reeled back as if she had punched him.  “I don’t understand.”  He practically lurched to his feet, pacing away from her, then back again.  “ _What_  condition?”

Felicity pushed herself to her feet as well.  She couldn’t do this with Oliver towering over her, pacing like a caged animal.  His hands clenching and unclenching.   The tears started again in earnest and she didn’t even bother to fight them this time. 

And the pacing was making her really,  _really_  tense.  Felicity put up her hands, just trying…  “Can you just…this is really hard to say, Oliver.  I—”

Oliver turned and grabbed her hands so fast that it made Felicity dizzy.  “Look, you can tell me.  Whatever this is, we can get through it.  Together.”

The intensity in Oliver’s voice, the conviction, it was impossible not to believe him.  But Felicity also knew that he thought she had some sort of health problem.  Maybe even something life-threatening.  He had no idea… _fuck_ , she just needed to spit it out.

If the tears hadn’t already been falling, they certainly would be now.  Felicity gripped his hands like a lifeline and squeezed her eyes shut.  “Oliver…I’m just going to blurt it out.   _Oliver_ , they had to give me a hysterectomy.”

There was no discernible response so Felicity cracked her eyes open…and saw only confusion on Oliver’s face.  Frak…frantic now, she burst out, “They took out all the parts…the  _organs_ …I can’t have a baby, Oliver.  Ever.”

And for a moment, after Felicity said it, it felt terribly anti-climactic.  Because she knew Oliver thought she was… _dying_  or something.  And here it was  _just_  that she couldn’t…?  Was it really  _that_  important…?

But then, Felicity met Oliver’s eyes, took in his shocked face, saw him drop her hands and take three steps backward, shaking his head.  Denying it.

Felicity had been right all along.  This was devastating for him. 

“But…surely, there’s a way…” Oliver murmured, denial already starting to kick in.

A part of Felicity had…had really  _hoped_ Oliver he would just…she didn’t know…tell her she had been silly for being so worried.  Tell her it wasn’t important to him that she couldn’t have a baby.  But the look on his face…

It really was important to him.

“This isn’t a…it will be hard to get pregnant but there’s a procedure  _thing_ ,” Felicity’s words came out bitter this time, hard.  She swiped at her eyes.  She was trying really, really hard not to be angry at him for being upset.  “I don’t have the necessary  _parts_ , Oliver.  They cut me open and they took them out, without my consent, and now they’re  _gone_.”

Felicity knew that wasn’t fair.  She would have died if they hadn’t done what they did but…she clutched at her stomach.  It was almost like she could  _feel_  the emptiness.  The phantom pains.

But Oliver wasn’t even looking at her at this point.  His eyes were fixated on some distant place.  His face… _destroyed_. 

“I don’t… _Felicity_ …” Oliver’s voice was so small and so lost.  Then he turned his eyes to hers and they were filled with tears, but they were also…accusing.  “That’s why?  All of this…all the  _pain,_  because you can’t have children?”

Okay…that was…well, not exactly a 180, but Felicity was just getting used to him being devastated by the loss and... _now_  Oliver was angry that it was the reason she left him? 

Both were valid feelings.  Felicity just didn’t know if she could handle them both at once. Especially at this intensity.

“Yes.”  It was a whisper.  A soft croak.  Felicity didn’t say it was stupid, because…looking at Oliver’s face, it didn’t feel stupid.  At all.

And Felicity realized, even with all her insistence that she had done this to let Oliver be happy, she had also done it…

Out of fear.

The fear Oliver would eventually leave her because of it.  The way her father had left.  That Oliver wouldn’t want her anymore, now that Felicity wasn’t…whole. 

And looking at his face.  Seeing the way Oliver wouldn’t touch her.  That fear felt _anything_ but stupid.

“But, surely…” Finally, Oliver turned and met Felicity’s eyes.  “Did you think I would have left you because of  _that_?”

It was as if Oliver read her mind.  Felicity almost laughed because it was so spot on, but instead she babbled, “No, I…” Was she lying?  “Not right away.”  But maybe  _that_  was admitting too much.  She was feeling the need to pull back.  Protect herself.  “I mean, I knew you would stay, be supportive, even if you would never be happy.  If…I just thought by letting you go, you would have a chance at a normal happy life.” 

And never have a chance to leave her once he realized how unhappy he was.

“Me?!”  Oliver was incredulous.  Angry now. “ _I_  would have a chance at a _normal_ happy life?!”

Okay…maybe, that wasn’t as logical as it had seemed in her head. 

“You said…you said you wouldn’t stay in ARGUS without me,” Felicity babbled, full on wringing her hands now, feeling defensive.  And anxious.  Really,  _really_  anxious.  “You  _said_  you wanted to go home.  So I thought, without me in your life…that’s what you would do.  Go home.  Heal.”

“I  _said_ ,” and, oh, wow, that was  _Oliver’s_  loud voice and it made Felicity flinch, “that if Waller separated us,  _we_  should quit.  It’s not even  _remotely_ the same!!”

Felicity opened her mouth, but she had no idea what to say to that.  Oh god.  She hadn’t…why hadn’t she…?

Oliver hands fell to his knees and he bent over, almost as if someone had sucker punched him.  He squeezed his eyes shut, every muscle in his body tense.  “Felicity, I…I don’t know what to say, I…”  He straightened, looking around like a caged animal, and announced, “I need to take a walk.”

Then Felicity watched in shock as Oliver turned around and…left.

Just  _left_.

It took a minute for her to fully comprehend it.  Then the pain washed over her in a tidal wave and…

Felicity couldn’t stand anymore and she collapsed from the force of her sobs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167416770115/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-16))
> 
> So…you can’t say I didn’t warn you.
> 
> And, yes, this was planned this way from the beginning.  Felicity needs to sit with this pain, the consequences of her choices.  You all get to take the journey with her.  The next chapter is, again, very intense, but it is also over the top romantic (hopefully not too much).
> 
> I’m braced (and insanely excited) for the comments.  (Biting my nails and all) Lay it on me!
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	18. Chapter 17: The Antechamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very emotional chapter and it carries with it my Wine and Kleenex Warning.
> 
> Warnings for very candid discussions about infertility and loss. Also for over the top romance that will never happen and could never happen in Arrow, the show. But that’s why I love fanfiction.
> 
> For Previously on... chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158860960445/previously-on) **.**

 

_September 18, 2016_  
_15:53_  
_The Antechamber_

It wasn’t the first time Oliver had walked away from Felicity.

In fact, Oliver had made it a habit over the last twenty-four hours.  But this time…this time it hurt so  _goddamn_  much.

Maybe it was a cliché.  Or maybe it sounded like something an over-dramatic teenager would say, but…it felt like someone was trying to wrench Felicity’s heart straight out of her chest. 

The pain was physical.  Like a knife plunged deep and twisted.

For a moment (one crazy, hysterical moment), Felicity wondered if she could die from this.  And for an even briefer moment…she wanted to.

Felicity wasn’t usually prone to drama, but by now she knew…knew on a  _guttural level_ where the phrase ‘broken heart’ came from.  How the emotional pain became physical.  She’d thought she’d felt it before, had been feeling it for years but, somehow,  _this_  was worse. 

One week ago, she couldn’t have even imagined it _could_  get worse.  So that was another thing Felicity had been wrong about.  The list was getting alarmingly long.

Then the pain released in a horrible, ugly sob and Felicity was certain that she sounded like a dying animal, but she could no more control it than…oh, what did it matter?  There was no one to hear.

Felicity sobbed.  Hunched over and huddled on the hard dusty floor, she sobbed. 

She sobbed until her throat burned and her chest was sore and aching.  Until her face was a snotty mess and her nose was so clogged that she couldn’t breathe. 

Was  _this_  the real reason she had kept her secret?  Had Felicity been terrified of _this_ moment?  The moment that Oliver found out she wasn’t whole any longer and left?  Five years ago, he would have pretended he was okay with it.  Now…he didn’t have to.

It took a long time for the sobs to die down and, when they did, Felicity was pretty certain it was more from exhaustion than anything else.  It was even longer before the pain dimmed enough for her thoughts to become anything resembling rational.

Caitlin had insisted Oliver wouldn’t care.  Shado had said the same.  But Felicity had known better.

Oliver cared.  It was obvious from the devastation Felicity had seen on his face just how much he  _cared_.

Whether Oliver would still choose her, regardless of that…well,  _secretly_ , Felicity had always thought Caitlin and Shado were right.  That he would have chosen to stay if she had told him the truth…even if, in the long run, he wouldn’t have been happy.

And her rational mind believed… _knew_  Oliver still cared for her.  A lot.  If he hadn’t still had hope for a future together, he wouldn’t be so shattered by the news of Felicity’s infertility. 

And he  _was_  shattered.  His absence was proof of that.

But the more she ran it all through in her head, the more she thought…as upset as Oliver was by the news, Felicity wasn’t alone right now because she was infertile.  She was alone because of her actions.

It was much more likely that Oliver had left her so that he could process the enormity of what Felicity had  _done_.  To them.  It was much more because of her choice than her condition.

And if Oliver had felt the way she felt now, five years ago…if he had had to deal with  _this_  pain without an explanation  _for all this time_ …

Felicity couldn’t blame him for leaving.  Not in the slightest.  

The guilt of that was crushing.  Because while she had brought this on by her actions, Oliver had not.  These were her consequences.  Felicity had thought that she was prepared for it. 

Guess not.

Though, was  _this_  something someone could prepare for?

And now…

Now all Felicity could do was wait.  Let Oliver walk and process and whatever.  The ball was entirely in his court.   It was his decision what to do with the information she’d given him, whether to allow her back in his life.  Or not. 

She owed Oliver that choice at least.

Felicity took a deep breath.  She needed to use this time to pull herself together.  Gather her resources for whatever came next.  She had laid all her cards on the table.  There was nothing left.  Oliver had all the power and, maybe, that was as it should be.

And, when Oliver came back, and really… _of course_ , he would come back.  He wasn’t going to abandon Felicity and the mission in the middle of the Lacandon jungle (even if he  _had_  brought his shirt).  Then she would have to see if there was anything left to salvage.  She still intended to fight for them but…

Felicity had to remember that Oliver had the right to pursue his own happiness.  Even if that was without her. 

She found a towel and a canteen and cleaned off her disgusting snotty face, taking great gulps of water until she felt almost human again.  Felicity imagined that she was rather dehydrated after all that crying.  She forced herself to eat a protein bar, even though it tasted like cardboard and stuck in her throat.

Then she brought the towel into the rain to clean it, because she only had one and she didn’t want it caked with dried snot. 

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, so it took a while.  The winds were all but gone.

As soon as she had emerged into the daylight, Felicity’s eyes darted around, instinctively searching the jungle for any sign of Oliver.  He was nowhere in sight.  She hadn’t really expected him to be.

Once the towel was acceptably un-gunked, Felicity laid out the canteen to be refilled.  It wouldn’t be quick, but it made sense to do it now before the rain stopped completely.

The hurricane had passed and now they needed to deal with the wreckage. 

It was a good thing really.  Felicity was glad she didn’t need to worry about Oliver being hit by a stray tree as he wandered the rainforest, emotionally compromised and alone. 

Without comms. 

Without a shirt even. 

At least, he never took off his boots.  Though…

Felicity hadn’t seen Oliver grab his bow and quiver…

Oh  _god_.

Felicity stumbled a little as she turned and scrambled back down the stairs.  And…sure enough, there was Oliver’s bow and quiver. 

Frak.  Frak.   _Frak_! 

Now Felicity’s secrets were going to get Oliver  _killed_!

Panic started to rise, but Felicity caught herself.  Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes and counted backward from 100.

It was going to be okay. 

Oliver may not forgive her, may not want to be with her ever again, but he was going to be _okay_.   Even without his weapons.  He had survived on an island for  _two years_.  He was a trained ARGUS Special Ops Agent.  One that had taken down the  _Bratva_. 

He would be back.  He would be fine. 

Physically, anyway.  

Frak.

Felicity wished Oliver had his comms.  Just in case.

But…maybe  _that_  was something she  _could_  fix.

Finding his broken watch and a bandanna, Felicity grabbed her tool kit and brought them half-way up the stairs so she could see out and watch for Oliver without the rain getting in to damage her work.

Then Felicity began the meticulous and soothing work of taking the watch apart into teeny tiny pieces.

Maybe  _this_ she’d even be able to put back together again.

 

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

 

_September 18, 2016_  
_17:09_    
The Antechamber 

“Hey.”

Oliver’s soft murmur startled her and Felicity jerked her head up from her work.  She was surprised to see the sun shining behind him.  Just how long had she been sitting there, working and waiting?

“Hey,” she returned.  Her voice was horse, but that made sense since it was her first word (or pseudo word) since her enormous sobbing fit.  Felicity cleared her throat and tried to ignore how her heart rate doubled at the mere sight of him.

But Oliver was back  _and_  talking to her.  Alive and whole.  Thank god. 

And talking  _calmly_.  Not yelling.  It was kind of a…miracle. 

Hopefully.

Actually, Felicity didn’t know what to make of Oliver’s soft voice and calm (if tired) face.  She had no idea if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but she was so grateful he was back.  As long as he was safe, she could handle the rest.

Probably.

Maybe? 

“You okay?” Felicity asked before she stopped to think. 

Because…what a question?  Stupidly simple when the situation was anything but.  How could Oliver  _possibly_  be okay?  Felicity knew she wasn’t.

Oliver shrugged in a self-deprecating way, but he gave her a small half-smile that made Felicity’s heart flip over.  Because he had just  _smiled_  at her and that couldn’t be a  _bad_  thing.  Right?

Felicity swallowed and resisted the urge to press a hand to her chest to try and slow the pounding.  Mostly because that wouldn’t work.  But, also, she didn’t want to look like the star of a 1930s melodrama.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked quietly, gesturing to Felicity’s pile of wires and gears with his chin.

Were they doing small talk?  God, Felicity hoped not.  She couldn’t even imagine going back to pretending to be colleagues and acquaintances.  Not now.  Not ever.

"Ummm…I, eh, was trying to get your comm to work, so you can…” Felicity held up his watch awkwardly.  She  _hated_  being awkward.  “I was worried.  You were gone so long.” 

Did that sound accusatory?  She didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory.  Even if it had _terrified_ her how long he had been out there without a weapon.

Oliver wrinkled his nose.  It was a gesture he had picked up from Felicity so long ago that it made her eyes burn.  Then he confessed, “I, uhmm…I might have gotten a bit lost.”

Felicity’s mouth fell open. “Oliver!” The reprimand fell from her lips before she could stop it.  Because, goddammit, that was  _really_  fraking terrifying.

Shrugging, Oliver had the grace to look sheepish at least.  And, to be honest, he could have easily claimed Felicity had no right to worry, never mind reprimand him.  So the fact that he did neither…so very grateful. 

Instead, Oliver leaned over and tapped the watch Felicity was holding with his forefinger.  “This would have helped.”

And…Felicity found herself very much flustered.  Oliver was standing close, looking relaxed and open and…it was so much more than she had hoped for.  And not something she had prepared for. 

Felicity gulped.  “I…I…I, ummm…” Okay, now she was  _stuttering_.  Lovely.  That was even worse than rambling.  “The touch screen was shot.  There’s no way I could fix that.”  Tech.  Tech was a safe subject.  She understood tech, had something resembling competency in the subject.  “Not here, anyway.  Not without better supplies.  But I rigged it so that if you press this button…”

Her hands trembled a little as she showed Oliver her work.  Even if it was a safe topic, it felt so weird to be talking shop.  Almost like Felicity was reading from a script.  And not doing a very good job of it. 

“You can…uh…turn on and off the comms.  ARGUS is still offline, but you can at least communicate with me.”  Okay…back to feeling  _extra_  awkward.  Felicity’s script sucked.  “Assuming you still  _want_  to communicate with me—”

“Felicity,” Oliver said firmly, pulling her attention back to his face, her stupid flapping gums slamming shut.  “I will  _always_  want to communicate with you.”

Oh.  Well.  Didn’t that…

_That_  just made her breath catch.  It was just… _quite_  the declaration.  Considering.  Felicity’s vision blurred and she tried really hard to smile, but even her lips seemed to be trembling.

“Speaking of which…” Oliver swallowed, his eyes skittering away for a second, almost shyly, which was just… _ridiculous_.  It made Felicity wonder if she had fallen asleep and was dreaming.  “We need to talk.”

Yes.  Of course.  They needed to talk.  Felicity knew  _that_.

So why did she have the urge to run in the other direction? 

Felicity managed to nod.  And she tried to talk…she  _did_ , but all that came out was a squeaky, “Uh…kay.” 

She scrambled to pick up her tools and told herself…she needed to brave.   She needed to let Oliver say whatever he needed to say.  Then… _then_ Felicity would figure out a way to fight for him.  For them.  She couldn’t lose Oliver now.  Not without doing everything she could.

Felicity handed Oliver his watch and he murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” as he put it back on. 

After a few moments of uncoordinated fumbling, Felicity gave up trying to put the tools back into their proper spots and just tied everything up in the bandana.  When she looked up, Oliver was holding out his hand to help her stand.  It made her heart skip a beat and she managed a tremulous smile as she took his hand and maybe squeezed it a little tighter than was strictly necessary.

But Oliver squeezed back and that was good.  Very, very good. 

Oliver led her into the middle of the room before letting go.  Felicity had to restrain herself from lurching toward him, trying to snatch his fingers back, almost desperately. 

Who was she kidding?  It would have been  _very_  desperate.  But that was exactly how Felicity felt right then.   _Desperate_.

But, instead of giving in to it, she dropped her bundle into her bag, trying to compose herself before she turned back to Oliver.  Felicity really didn't think it worked.  And, look, she was wringing her hands again.   _That_  wasn’t telling  _at all._

But Oliver didn’t seem to notice.  Or maybe he noticed, but he didn’t care.  He ignored it regardless. 

He seemed to be battling his own nerves.  But why should  _Oliver_  be nervous?  Unless…he was trying to figure out a way to let Felicity off easy?  The mere idea made her want to vomit.

Clearing his throat, Oliver began, “First off, I want to apologize—”

Felicity burst out laughing.  It was rather deranged, actually.  Which she was sure was making him want her back super badly.  “You?  What do  _you_ have to apologize for?!”

Oliver put a hand up to stop her.  “For running out like that.  I…” He blew out a breath.  “It wasn’t fair of me to leave that way but I…”

When Oliver met her gaze, his eyes…well, they were intense. _So_ intense that it took every ounce of willpower Felicity had not to turn away.

“But you have to understand that this was a blow.  That this is a loss for me too and I haven’t had five years to process and…” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know…‘get use to’ isn’t the right phrase… ‘mourn’, maybe?”  Oliver nodded, like he was finally satisfied with the word. “I haven’t had a chance to  _mourn_  this.”

Oliver’s eyes were devastated, but Felicity barely had a chance to take that in because…his words…they felt like a  _punch_.  She hated how upset he was but…

It  _was_  about Felicity not being able to have a child.   _That_  was why Oliver ran out.  More so than her keeping secrets.

It shouldn’t be as much of a shock as it was but Felicity…she’d convinced herself…set her hopes on it being about the secret.  Because this…god, this was so much worse.  It…it put that horribly empty feeling back in her gut. 

It made Felicity feel defective.  Like she wasn’t… _enough_  for him.

Like she wasn't enough for  _anyone_. 

Like Felicity was being selfish for even trying to find love again.  All the hope that had slowly been building inside her since Palenque started to drain away…

It left her cold and sick and _empty_.  

But…maybe it also meant that there was hope for Oliver.  Maybe, Felicity  _shouldn’t_  be fighting for them.  Maybe that was selfish.  Maybe she just needed to go back to her very first plan. 

And let him go. 

Shield her heart. 

Embrace the numbness that was creeping in with the cold.  Get some closure.  

Let Oliver go.

Trembling, Felicity somehow managed to say (before she lost the nerve), “Just because I can’t have—”

“ _Stop_!”

Oliver’s voice was forceful enough that it not only made Felicity stop, but had her straightening up, jerking back. 

“Stop  _right_  there.  Because…” Oliver clenched his jaw and shook his head.  “This is where you got  _everything_  wrong.  And I…I thought I had walked off my anger, but…I think…I think I’m _really_   _pissed_  at you.”

Okay…Felicity hadn’t been prepared for Oliver to come right out and say it like  _that_. 

“You mean that I kept it from you?” Felicity asked in a small voice. 

Honestly, she was having trouble keeping up, figuring out where he was going with this.  Every time Oliver seemed to be going in one direction, he made a sharp right turn and it was making Felicity dizzy.  The emotional roller-coaster was...she couldn’t get a grip…couldn’t hold on.

“Yes!” Oliver exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.  “That you kept it from me!  But it’s so much more than that!  This was my loss too!  I had a  _right_  to know!”

Now Felicity was just confused.  All she could do was shake her head and repeat, “But _you_ can still—”

“ _No_!”  And, this time, Oliver roared it.  “This is what you are not getting, Felicity!  You didn’t just lose the ability to have  _your_  children.  You lost the ability to have  _our_  children.”

Just those two words… _our_  children.  They…they wiped everything Felicity was going to say clean out of her head.  They wiped  _everything_  out of her head, except…

Felicity hand flew to cover her mouth, trying to hold back the sobs.

But Oliver was too upset to notice, or maybe to care, because he kept going, “Did you think I just wanted children for…what?  To live the American Dream?  To drive a mini-van and live in suburbia?  Move to Starling, add a woman and mix…poof the perfect life?    Like  _any_  woman would do?”

He ground to a halt and started at her and Felicity…she didn’t know what to say. 

Because…yeah, sort of.  Not the  _any_  woman part…but the rest, yeah, that was  _exactly_  what she thought.  But now that he said it out loud it sounded…not at all like Oliver.  Ridiculous even.

Especially when Oliver was all red-faced and agitated, uncharacteristically open with his feelings and, just…really  _upset_.  

And also at the end of his rope because he started in again, yelling, “I never wanted any of those things until I wanted them with  _you_ , Felicity!  It was about  _you_.  I wanted a life with  _you_.  I wanted children with  _you_.  No one else.”

“That doesn’t mean you can never—” Felicity croaked.  Because that was  _before_  and this was…she didn’t know but...her thoughts were a confused mess.

“Do you still not get it!?”  And, now, Oliver was frustrated.  Angry and hurt and frustrated and wild.  “If you can’t have children, then  _I_  can’t have children, because I don’t now and won’t  _ever,_  want anyone’s children but yours.”

Felicity sucked in a painful breath, her heart stuttering.  That couldn’t possibly be true.  Could it? 

It was a struggle to hold Oliver’s fiery blue gaze.  But…Felicity couldn't look away for the world.

“So when you lost…that  _ability_ , so did I!” Oliver’s voice shook and his eyes swam.  “And we…we should have  _mourned_  that together!”

When Oliver finally stopped his…rant, his crazy...insane… _beautiful_  rant, it took Felicity a full minute to pull it all together in her head and make sense of it.  It was so different from everything she had been thinking.…

But when it all clicked into place…Felicity bent over with the force of the sob that tore from her throat.

Not only did this mean Felicity’s massive stupidity was even more… _wrong_  than she had ever imagined, it was just so…it was…

It was so ridiculously, over the top  _romantic_ …in an overwhelming and self-sacrificing way and if she didn’t already love Oliver with everything that she had in her…it would almost be too much.

But for someone, _anyone_  to feel that deeply for her, _Felicity Smoak_ , it was unbelievable.  It was overwhelming.  It was…it was hard to breathe.

“Fuck.   _Felicity_ …”

Then Oliver was on his knees in front of her and his arms were around her and Felicity was crying harder (which she really hadn’t thought possible), curled into herself on her knees…when had she fallen to her knees?  Shouldn’t that have hurt? The ground was very hard.

“Shhhh.  Shhh.   _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …”

Oliver’s cheek pressed against the top of her head and she would have sworn she felt wet seeping through her hair.  Felicity reached out to curl her fingers into his shirt...then she remembered he wasn’t wearing one.  And something…something shattered…

Felicity let out another one of her awful dying animal sounds and uncurled herself.  Launching herself at Oliver, she wrapped her arms around his neck as far as they would go and buried her snotty disgusting mess of a face in his neck, her mouth open and latching onto the skin of his shoulder like a leach.

It was too much and Felicity was sure it was inappropriate and she was taking this too far, but she couldn’t control herself.  She had none.  No control.  It was so  _so_  gone.

Felicity thought she lost him.  Thought it five years ago and thought it every day after that.  Then, just when she found hope, it was gone again.  Just minutes ago she had been certain this was the final straw…

But Oliver was  _here_ and he was holding her and he had…

Oliver had just said…god, Felicity couldn’t even put into words what he’d said…what he had  _expressed_  about the depth of his feelings for her and…

And Felicity felt that way too.  About Oliver.  God, she felt…so  _much_  for him.  It was indescribable.  She’d never been able to  _imagine_  that he felt the same.

But if Oliver’s feelings really matched hers then…they  _had_  to work.  They had to  _make_  this work.  There was no other option.

She squeezed him tighter, held onto him until Oliver let out a rough noise that sounded like his own sob, only deeper and…he pulled Felicity onto his lap.  Her legs fell on either side of his and he banded his arms across her back until one hand rested on her opposite hip and the other cupped her shoulder. 

This time, Felicity was  _certain_  that those were tears dripping down her temple as Oliver rocked her, his chest heaving, just as hers was.

Felicity didn’t know how long they stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, rocking.  Crying. 

It was awhile before their sobs finally quieted to a soft weeping.  But she never let her grip loosen.  Her lungs burned and her throat ached.  Her eyes felt swollen and she couldn’t breathe through her nose, but…

She had forgotten what true comfort felt like. 

Felicity was exhausted, yet… _lighter_  than she had felt in years.  Five years, three months, and fourteen days to be precise. 

“This is what should have happened five years ago,” Oliver whispered into Felicity’s (she was certain) frizzy hair.  As if he had read her thoughts and was responding to them.  “We should have _mourned_ together.  Comforted each other.”

That set off another hiccuping sob, because…Oliver was right. 

Felicity had denied them this. And if she had allowed it then, things would be so incredibly different today.  “I’m sorry.  I’m  _so_  sorry.”

Oliver shook his head.  His lips brushing her temple as he did.  “You don’t need to be sorry anymore,” he rasped, his voice deeper than usual.  “We need to be done with sorries and move forward.”

Felicity laughed softly and for the first time it wasn’t an ugly bitter sound, it was almost…giddy?  “When did you get so wise?”

Chuckling as well, Oliver nuzzled his face further into her shoulder, so Felicity’s hair fell onto his face, and he murmured into her skin, “I’m not wise.  I’m desperate.  I…I just want…I  _need_  these five years to be over.”

That was a plan Felicity could certainly get behind.  The question was…what next?  Where  _was_  forward? 

Felicity really didn’t care where it took them as long as it took them there together.

It was easy to assume, with Oliver wrapped around her the way he was, that that was what he wanted too, but Felicity really couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions.  If they weren’t on the same page…of god, they just  _had_  to be!

Pulling back…Felicity found herself very reluctant to give up her death grip, but her glasses were smudged and…oh, poor Oliver.  They must have been cutting into his skin this entire time.  It wasn’t like she could see all that great anyway, not with her eyes crusty and swollen the way they were.

Felicity pushed her glasses up and wiped at her face.  God, she was gross.  “Can I say I’m sorry for getting snot all over you?”

Oliver met her eyes and huffed out a soft laugh, his entire face transforming with only the smallest of smiles.  His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen as well. 

“No.  You don’t have to be sorry for that either.”  Then Oliver leaned forward and kissed her, snot and all. 

The kiss was light and inelegant, but it filled her with warmth and hope.  So it was pretty _damn_ awesome.  Felicity couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to cup Oliver’s cheeks, making him linger just a few moments longer.

Felicity mewed a little when Oliver finally pulled back, following him with her lips (she was feeling a little bit dazed and delirious at this point) but it made him smile all the way to his eyes so… _totally_  worth it.

Though, really, after the incredible ups and downs of the last few hours…Felicity thought, maybe, she’d like to spend the next one just sitting here like this, lazily kissing him. 

But Oliver pulled a bandanna from his belt loops instead.  It was still damp from the rain he was out in for hours on end.  Gently, he pulled off Felicity's glasses and cleaned them, so…

Yeah, anything Oliver wanted…Felicity would give him  _anything_  he wanted. 

Oliver wiped Felicity’s face before placing her glasses back on her nose.  “All better?”

Maybe it should have made her feel like a child but, really, it just made Felicity feel loved.  It had been a long time since she’d felt that way.

Felicity smiled, dopily she was sure, and murmured, “Not quite.”  Taking the bandanna from Oliver’s hand, she cleaned his shoulder where she had slobbered all over him. “There.”

Oliver chuckled again, humming a little in what seemed to be pleasure so…

Felicity exhaled, and since she was so exhausted and also because she had missed Oliver  _so_  very much…she melted back into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder…stupid glasses.  She couldn’t get close enough.   No wonder she always used contacts when they were together. 

Felicity pulled off the glasses and, gripping them in her hand, pressed her swollen eyes into the crook of Oliver’s neck.

Oh _yes_ , that was much better.   _So_  much better than a warm towel on her puffy eyes.  Sighing, the tension finally drained away as Felicity wrapped her arms around him again.

Oliver’s hands stroked her back, long and slow, over her shirt, which kind of made her wish it would go away.  But Felicity had no desire to break the spell by mentioning it. 

Or speaking at all. 

Or moving.

They needed to expressly lay out exactly what ‘moving forward’ meant.  There was still so much that needed to be said.  But, in this moment,  _this_ was juuuust fine. 

This was  _wonderful,_ in fact.  Oh god, Felicity had missed  _this_  so much. 

All that frantic workaholism…it had just been a way to keep Felicity from remembering what she was missing from her life. 

Oliver.

Felicity almost thought she might drift off like this, which sounded lovely actually.  How long _had_ it been since she’d had decent sleep? 

But then, Oliver whispered, “You know it’s all kind of…I dunno ironic or whatever, because one of my top theories…about why you left—”

_God_.  “Oh Oliver, I—”

“Shhhh…no more apologizing, I just…do you not want to talk about it?” Oliver asked cautiously, wary and unsure, twisting up Felicity’s insides as he played with her messy hair.

She  _didn’t_  want to talk about it.  Felicity wanted to pretend none of it ever happened and go into a cocoon with Oliver and hide forever.  But it was clear  _he_  wanted to talk so…

“No, it’s okay,” Felicity murmured against his skin.  Oliver was just so  _warm_.  “Just don’t forget that I never  _wanted_  to leave you.  It was just…self-sacrificing lunacy.”

Oliver’s chuckle rumbled against Felicity’s chest, vibrating through her and making her smile.  “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my play.”

“Hmmm, guess you rubbed off on me.”  Felicity stretched a little and rubbed against him, cuddling closer.  She couldn’t get close enough.  “Tell me.   What did you think?” 

If it was important enough for Oliver to bring it up, then Felicity wanted to know.  Besides, talking about it was the healthy thing to do, right?  She wanted to do everything right this time.  Second chances were…well, precious.  And she was so very grateful.  She wasn’t going to take anything for granted.

“Right, yeah…” Oliver wasn’t looking at her.  How could he with his mouth resting on her temple the way it was?  Besides, Felicity had her eyes closed and pressed into the muscles of his shoulder.  Maybe, this was the best way to have this conversation.  “I guess one of my top theories was that I had pushed too hard that last night.  The one in Flores, before Tikal.”

Okay…maybe, she  _did_  need to look at Oliver for this. 

Felicity pulled back and blinked up at him.  “ _What_?  What are you talking about?”

“I—”

_Then_  Felicity realized she still couldn’t make out his expression and she really need to be able to read his face.  She put up her hand.  “Wait…”

Unfolding her glasses, Felicity placed them back on her nose, blinking as his beautiful face came into focus.  Oliver was smiling indulgently at her, chewing on his lip, making her heart bleed for him.

“Okay, now… _what!_?” 

Had Oliver really been thinking something went  _wrong_  in Flores?  It had been the most incredible night.  The memory was bitter-sweet because it had been their last but… 

“That night was amazing!” Felicity protested, because she never wanted him to think anything else.  “Well, other than the promotions of doom…but how did you push?”

Oliver wrinkled his nose, a smile just starting at the corners of his lips.  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Felicity’s nose before settling his forehead against hers. His big hands cupped her hips, grounding her.  “I thought…I thought, maybe, I scared you away with all the talk of a baseball team of kids.  You were the one who said you were only 22.  I thought you weren’t ready…or just didn’t want kids and were afraid to tell me—”

“Okay, first of all…” Felicity could let him think this way for another second.  “If I refused to talk to you because I wasn’t ready for kids…that would have been pretty pathetic,” she said and Oliver huffed out a soft chuckle.  “And second…” She took and deep breath and had to close her eyes as she confessed, “If I didn’t ever want children, I probably wouldn’t have had a panic attack every time I saw a pregnant woman just…”

Felicity couldn’t finish the sentence, the words stuck in her throat.  Oliver pulled her back into his arms, rocking her again, his cheek against her…

Until he froze. 

Which made Felicity freeze, because freezing was so  _not_  a good thing and things could go so much worse than they were going now and—

“You weren’t just running from  _me_  that day at the beach, were you?  It was Lyla…?”

A relieved breath left Felicity in a whoosh as her muscles went limp…and yet, at the same time, a sob bubbled up and she admitted in a rush, “I went looking for you.  I wanted to see you after all this time.  Even though it was terrifying.  But I…I had no idea about Lyla and…”  

Felicity pulled back, meeting Oliver’s gaze.  It was full of so much empathy and…

“Then you touched her belly and you looked so…in  _awe_  and that will never be…” Oliver’s face crumpled…no, that was  _Felicity’s face_  that dissolved into hot tears.  Still, these words seemed to be determined to be heard.  “It should have been _us_ , Oliver.  But it…” 

“Oh  _god_ ,” Oliver breathed and Felicity watched as the full ramifications dawned on him.  His eyes went distant and… _vacant_  as they lost focus and he whispered, “It will  _never_  be us.” 

Hearing Oliver say it was like a knife.  But seeing the grief on his face... _that_  was even worse.  All Felicity wanted in that moment was to have something comforting to say.  She should be good at this by now, shouldn’t she?  Or used to it, at least.  Oliver pointed out that she’d had all this time to mourn, so why did the wound feel so fresh? 

Felicity opened her mouth to say something,  _anything_  that would make Oliver feel better.  To be his Sunshine, but what came out was, “It’s my fault.”

Oliver’s eyes instantly snapped back to hers.  “How could it possibly be  _your_  fault?”  His tone implied that he didn’t believe it for a second and that should have made Felicity feel better but…

Before she knew what she was doing, Felicity was confessing her darkest and most deeply buried fear.  The one she had never dared utter before.  “I stepped in front of that bullet and that was selfish.”

“Felicity—”

“It was.  I didn’t want to live in a world without you, so I…”  Felicity broke off with a sob, squeezing her eyes shut.  She couldn’t look at him.  Couldn’t bear the derision.  Didn’t deserve the sympathy, the love.  “I never even thought about the fact that I was consigning you to the same fate.  That I was just giving  _you_  all that pain.  Abandoning you and I…” Her voice cracked and she pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hold it together.

“No, baby, no…”

Felicity ignored him, she had to get this out before she lost her nerve.  She had to get it _all_ out.  No more secrets.  “So, I was punished.  I was punished for my selfishness and god took away my… _our_  baby and—”

Oliver went stiff as a board, asking desperately, “You weren’t—?”

“No.   _No_ ,” Felicity shook her head frantically, angry at herself for letting Oliver think that for even a second.  The truth was bad  _enough_.  “I wasn’t…it’s so stupid, but I…it  _felt_  like I lost a child, even though that’s dumb…because there was never a child to lose.”

And now there never would be.

“It’s not stupid.”  Oliver cupped Felicity’s chin forcing her to look him in the eye.  “It’s not.  I felt… _feel_  the same way, like…like we lost a child…”  He blew out a shaky breath.  “Like someone died…”

Oliver’s tone was…just _destroying_ her and…

Felicity reached out with a shaky and desperate hand to cup Oliver’s cheek, leaning forward to gracelessly press a sloppy kiss to his lips.  She hoped it would give him some comfort, because she had no more words. 

Oliver pulled her closer, kissing her lips, her cheek, her shoulder…before burying his face in the crook of her neck once more.   Felicity could feel him taking deep breaths, feel his shudders as he tried to gain his own measure of control.   

“But Felicity…the idea that any of this is your fault… _that’s_  what's dumb.”

Felicity had to laugh, because it was just the most ridiculous way to comfort someone, but it did.  It really, really did. 

She dug her fingers into Oliver’s back and pulled him closer as he said, “I would have done the same thing.  You  _know_  that.  I would have taken that bullet a hundred times over.  Without pausing to worry about your grief.  Not able to stand the idea of a world without you in it…”  His voice cracked.

“Shhh,” it was Felicity’s turn to say, kissing away the saltiness on Oliver’s cheeks.  Then the irony of it all hit her and she found herself chuckling.  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?  Between the two of us, you would think we were the cause of all the world’s evil.”

Oliver shook his head, his eyes still so serious.  “There is nothing evil about you, Felicity.”

And that…it just…Felicity had to bite her lip and breath through her nose to try to control the wave of emotion his words triggered. 

“But evil did  _this_ ,” Oliver continued fiercely, putting a protective hand on her stomach.  “Reiter.  That asshole who shot you…I wish I could kill them all over again.”

“Then kill Darhk,” Felicity answered back just as fiercely.  It was an odd thing to say, but it felt right.  “Evil is evil.”

And  _that_ , finally, made the corner of Oliver’s lip quirk up.  “Maybe it is.” 

After that, Oliver thoughts seemed to drift off again and Felicity let them, allowing herself to enjoy the soothing rhythm of his fingers carding through her hair.

Finally, Oliver murmured, “So…Lyla and Digg don’t know?”

He already knew the answer, but if Oliver needed confirmation…Felicity shook her head.  “Just Caitlin and Shado.”

Oliver nodded in response, still looking off.  “I…I can see why it was hard for you…I mean, it’s going to be difficult to see Lyla again.”  The pain in his voice was obvious.

It was strange, and incredibly comforting, to have someone  _share_  her pain.  Felicity felt selfish for feeling that way, for taking solace in Oliver’s grief.  She would save him from it if she could but…it was so  _different_  from Caitlin’s sympathy…as lovely as that was. 

This was someone who felt the  _same_.  Someone who  _understood_ , because they felt it too.

So, selfish or not, more words tumbled out of Felicity’s mouth, “I went to their wedding, Lyla and John’s.  It was… _horrible_.  I mean, the wedding itself was beautiful, of course.  I just felt...I wanted to be a good friend and I knew it was petty, but all I could think was…that should be  _us_.  That was the life we  _should_  have had.” 

The life that they had dreamed of and planned for that one beautiful fateful night in Flores.

Oliver pulled her closer, pressing a hard kiss to the top of her head and saying, “I…Felicity, I don’t know what kind of life we  _should_  have had, but I know…” Felicity could feel the breath he blew out ruffle her hair.  “I know…I  _believe_  that it is supposed to be  _together_.”

And…

Felicity had hoped…

Oh god, she had  _prayed_  that this was what he meant when he mentioned moving forward, but Felicity hadn’t…to hear Oliver say it out loud…

Felicity pulled back to meet his eyes, even though hers were blurry and swimming with tears.  She ran her fingers through his short hair.  “Oliver…” Her voice came out strange and she had to swallow to remove the lump before trying to speak again.  “I…”

Oliver’s face was solemn.  Unsure. 

It made the words come.  Cupping the back of his head, Felicity vowed, “There is  _nothing_  I want more.”

The insecurity disappeared and Oliver’s face transformed and it was….it was  _beautiful_. 

It gave Felicity the courage to continue, “And if you will forgive me—”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

Felicity had to laugh at that.  “Oh there is—”

“Then I’ve already forgiven you.  I just…” Oliver’s face grew sober again.  “I need…” He closed his eyes and swallowed, and when he opened them again, Felicity could see his anguish.  “I’ve _felt_  what it is like to live without you.  I  _hate_  it.  And…I can’t go through it again…the ending…my soul won’t survive, Felicity.”

“Oh baby,” Felicity ran her hands down his face, trying desperately to sooth him.  “Never again.   _Never_ ,” she swore, desperately.  “I’ll  _never_  keep another secret.  I’ll never—”

But Oliver didn’t let her finish, he broke in, sounding like a lost little boy.  “Just don’t _leave_ me.  I need you.  Always and forever—”

“Always and forever,” Felicity agreed, nodding the only way she seemed to remember how.  _Frantically_.  “For real this time.  For  _everything_.  I will never  _willingly_  leave you.”   _That_  she could promise.  That was what she  _should_  have promised all those years ago.  “Not for anything.  I love you so muc—”

Oliver’s lips slammed down on hers.  His hand cupping the back of her head and pulling her to him.  As soon as she realized what he was doing, Felicity surged up to meet him, her lips searching out his with the same desperate passion.

His mouth and his tongue, they seemed even more insistent than before.  More demanding.  More possessive.  And Felicity loved every second of it.

The way Oliver sucked on her lips and tongue, like he wanted to draw her inside of him…Felicity wanted that too… _no,_  she wanted to have  _him_ inside of  _her_ …

Oh it didn’t matter.   As long as they… _connected._   And  _stayed_  connected. 

Right the frak now!

They needed to seal this new amazing…

Oh god, oh wow…was this  _really_  happening?  Were they really… _back_?

Was the never-ending nightmare that had been the last five years…five years, three months and fourteen days… _finally_  over?

Felicity wrenched her lips from Oliver’s, then cupped his jaw so that he was forced to meet her eyes. 

His were wild.  Heavy lidded.  His lips swollen and so full of promise that Felicity almost forgot… _everything_ …

“Is this real?   _Please_ , tell me this is real,” Felicity begged and she really didn’t care how desperate it sounded.  Not any more.  “Because it kind of feels too good to be true.  My life doesn’t go this well.  It’s been a really long time since anything  _good_  has happened and now it feels like I’m getting  _everything_  and…I’m not sure if I can believe it.  Or if I  _deserve_  it and—”

“You  _deserve_  it,” Oliver swore.  His face had broken into a full-out grin during Felicity’s runaway ramble and he let out a laugh so filled with joy that it was just…the absolutely  _most_  wonderful sound.  “Because even if you made some epically bad choices…”

_That_ shocked an echo of laughter out of Felicity.

“Those choices were made out of love and grief.  You are a  _good_  person, Felicity Smoak.”  And, wow, the way Oliver looked at her…it was hard not to believe him. “The best person I know.  Better than I deserve most days.”

Felicity grinned and she was pretty sure she was giddy, if not full-out delirious.  “Okay, now I’m  _really_  not sure this is real—”

Oliver cut her off with another laugh that was quickly smothered when his lips crashed back onto hers.  He sucked firmly on her lower lip, pausing there for long seconds, savoring.

The moment Oliver let her breathe, Felicity’s brain caught up with her and she blurted, “And can we talk about what  _you_  deserve?  Because if you are going to praise me after all  _I_  did, you need to know—”

Another laugh and an even longer kiss shut Felicity up this time.  This one long enough to rob her of all coherent thought and...

But Oliver seemed to be,  _somehow,_  following the disjointed conversation because he said, “And  _I_  know it’s real because…because my hand still hurts from where I punched that tree—”

“Wait! What?”  Cause…Oliver did what now?

“And because the ground is hard and uncomfortable under my knees and my boots are still wet and my shoulder bruised from the crash….”

Felicity loosened her grip, frowning as she gently stroked Oliver’s shoulder instead. “Oh, my god, I forgot.  I’m so sorry.”  How could she have forgotten?  Why hadn’t he said anything?  “Are you ok—?”

Oliver laughed and pulled her in even tighter, not even acknowledging any discomfort as he continued, “And because you smell like rain and jungle and  _Felicity_  and you taste like…” Oliver pressed a kiss to her cheek, capturing the seemingly never-ending stream of tears.  “Salt.”

Then Oliver leaned in and caught her lips in another deep kiss that just went on and on and on, making Felicity forget the list of injuries she now needed to check on.

When Oliver pulled back, he was short of breath and he murmured against her lips, “What was I saying?”

“Hmmm?”

Felicity had _no_ idea. 

She licked her lips, chasing Oliver’s taste.  She was lost in how dark the blue of his eyes were in the moment and…if this was a dream, Felicity was going to enjoy every second. And she never wanted to wake up. 

Finally, Felicity answered with the only thing that came to mind, “Love you.  Love you so much.”

And all Oliver seemed to do was nod, looking as delirious as she felt.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  Love you.  I love you.” 

This time, it was Felicity who slammed into Oliver, her mouth open and seeking, her tongue searching out his as she pressed as close as she could get.  She had no desire to do anything other than drown in him.

Love you.  Love you.  Love you. 

It was Felicity’s mantra, but she refused give up his lips to say it out loud.

Oliver’s hands found her ass, kneading it, pulling her into the most perfect position so she could feel his hard cock through his too thick shorts, pressing exactly where she needed it.

Felicity ground against him, circling her hips, letting go, letting her body do whatever it wanted. 

And it wanted Oliver.

His growl vibrated through her body and since he refused to give up her lips, Felicity felt it all the way to her toes. With one hand still encouraging the motion of her hips, Oliver’s other hand slid under the back of her shirt and Felicity moaned her encouragement.

The feel of Oliver’s large, rough hand gliding over her skin…Felicity would never take it for granted again.  It curved around front, running up her belly and she waited with baited breath for him to find her breast.  It had been  _so_  long…

But before he did, Oliver’s arm moved to spanned her back, lifting her. Felicity’s legs automatically moving to circle his waist as he moved.  He laid her on the bed roll, his mouth finally leaving hers only to latch onto her neck, to lave and suck as his hand finally found her breast and then—

And then Oliver was gone.

So fast….

Felicity was…

She didn’t know what she was.  Felicity didn’t know what was going on.  She…

But Oliver had his bow in his hands and an arrow notched and before her vision cleared, he was between her and the door.

Felicity scrambled to her knees just in time to see the black garbed HIVE operatives, Ghosts they were called, emerge from the stone stairway.

_Frak_.

Now  _this_ …this was  _exactly_  what Felicity’s life looked like.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167417594565/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-17))
> 
> There you go.  I hope I didn’t go too over board with the romance and it wasn’t melodramatic or cheesy.  And the cliffhanger…
> 
> Well, this was the cliffhanger that had my betas screaming at me (via all caps) and convincing me to write the next chapter before hiatus. 
> 
> You can thank the amazing  **Ireland1733** ,  **Fairytalehearts,** and  **imusuallyobsessed**  for not sitting on this cliffy for the entire summer.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the lovely comments and kudos!  I will be on-line tonight trying to answer as many comments and questions as I can. 
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/


	19. Chapter 18: The Antechamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for cannon-type violence, a little more graphic than typical CW (Maybe Fox level. Nowhere near HBO) and some brief non-consensual groping.
> 
> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/158860960445/previously-on) **.**

_September 18, 2016_  
_18:11_  
_The Antechamber_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

Well, at least now Felicity knew it wasn’t a dream.

Then again, Felicity’d had plenty of perfectly lovely dreams involving Oliver and most of them took a horrific turn  _very much_ like this and—

“My quiver!”

Right. 

Crisis mode.  Probably not the time to contemplate her various dream types.

Ghosts were swarming through the entrance to the antechamber.  The entrance that was _also_ the exit, effectively trapping Oliver and Felicity inside.  The enemy combatants held weapons (pretty scary looking weapons), but they weren’t shooting.  

Thank  _god_.  Otherwise they’d already be dead, fish in a barrel as they were.  Their orders must be to capture not kill.  They needed information about Kin Cuudad. 

Little did HIVE know, just by stepping in this room they had almost everything ARGUS had.

Oliver, on the other hand, held no such compulsions about not killing and he let an arrow fly.  Before Felicity could even get herself together enough to take in the situation and grab his quiver, he had shot the first Ghost in the neck, where their armor was thinner, and the operative went down. 

But the others still didn’t pause.  And they still didn’t lift their weapons.  They just  _kept coming_.

Apparently, their objective was more important than their lives.  What did Darhk have over these guys?

Felicity,  _somehow_ , managed to hold Oliver’s quiver up in time for him to grab the next arrow.  She crouched behind him and held it in place, where it usually rested between his shoulder blades, as she tried to figure out if it was worth taking the time to try and strap it around his chest.

The fight had that almost slow-motion quality to it and Felicity knew that meant everything was happening incredibly fast and her brain was just allowing her to take in every microsecond.  

Because every microsecond counted.

Her knuckles were pressed against Oliver’s warm back and Felicity could feel the powerful play of his muscles as he let the arrows fly, one after another, with a speed and precision that was as dizzying as it was comforting.

But Felicity needed to do something more than stand there (or crouch there if she wanted to be precise) and be a human quiver.  She needed to get to a gun….no a  _tranq_.  Because  _no guns_.  Guns caused cave-ins.  

Was _that_ why the Ghosts weren’t shooting?  Were they that smart?  Damian Darhk was.   And he probably cared more about this chamber than the wellbeing of his foot soldiers.

If Felicity could just get the right grip to strap on the quiver, then…though, at this rate, Oliver was going to run out of arrows before she had a chance.  Or—

Space.

They ran out of  _space_.

There were too many of them and not enough arrows and the armored men just  _kept_ _coming,_ stepping over or shoving aside the dead or wounded.  With absolutely no regard for their brothers-in-arms.  

And then the Ghosts were on top of them. 

_God_.  It was insane how much could happen inside of a minute.  It couldn’t have been more than that before a Ghost was close enough to grab Oliver’s bow. 

Maybe Felicity should have counted the arrows.  Twelve arrows a minute.  That was how many Oliver could fire.  On average, anyway.  He had done better. 

The Ghost reached out to snatch the bow, which was rather stupid because,  _of course_ , Oliver was ready.  He only allowed the operative to get a decent grip on the thing to use him as leverage so Oliver could throw the intruder over his… _their_  shoulders. 

It was a good thing Felicity still seemed to be as in sync with Oliver as she always had been.  She rolled to the side as he flipped backward, taking the Ghost off balance and snapping his neck.  Then Oliver was back on his feet and fighting before the dead man could hit the ground.

Felicity felt that tickle of fear.  The panic.  The well-warn PTSD.  All off it in the back of her head, trying to push forward and overwhelm her.  To send her into a cowering heap.  And…

_Fuck_  that!

And  _fuck_  Darhk and his goddamn minions for interrupting what would have been undoubtedly the best reunion sex known to  _humankind_! 

These Ghosts could burn in hell and frak if Felicity wasn’t going to help light the match.

Felicity had something to live for now and she would be  _damned_  it she was going to let these masked freaks take that from her.  From  _them_!

She was well aware that Oliver was doing his best to keep them away from her.  And his best was damned impressive.  He was holding his own with…like five Ghosts.  He fought like a wild animal…no, not a wild animal.  No animal had that much skill and precision, no matter how graceful they were.

But Felicity was a trained agent too and even if she had been underground for half a decade, she was not going to stand there like a goddamn damsel in distress.

When, inevitably, a Ghost went to grab her, Felicity went limp and let out a terrified squeal.

It was muscle memory.  Instinct really.  A reaction practiced until it was automatic.

If someone grabbed Sara or Lyla or  _Oliver_ , for that matter, they each had a handful of defensive moves that came to them as easy as breathing.  Cait and Felicity…they had their own move.  They had perfected the Squeal and Faint.

Felicity and Caitlin had learned long ago that their best play was to act like a helpless science-type.  With no fighting skills of their own.  Their true skills were far from insignificant, but in their world, they were mediocre at best.  But ARGUS mediocre was still damn good, especially when their opponents thought they had none at all.

Felicity just hoped Oliver recognized the (very affected) squeal for what it was.  He should.  He’d helped her perfect it years ago (a task that was accompanied by much laughter), but all she hoped for, at this point, was that it didn’t distract him from fighting.  That was something they could  _not_  afford. 

It didn’t seem to.  Oliver stayed focused on the three men he was currently engaged in, not her.  At least not visibly.

The Ghost with his hands on Felicity also seemed more focused on the fighting than her.    As evidenced by how easy it was for her hand to close around a pen dart.

Then again, Felicity was pretty damn good at being sneaky when she wanted to be.

She flailed.  In a way Felicity  _knew_  was completely ineffectual.  That was  _if_  her goal was to get away.  Now, if her goal was to distract and lower her captor’s expectations…it worked like a charm.   

The Ghost holding Felicity wrapped his arms around her from behind, one arm banded around her waist, the other grabbing her face.  It made her skin crawl, even though all she could really feel was rough canvas and leather.

“Stop!” Mr. Head Asshole (because Felicity had decided the one to grab her  _must_  be the one in charge) barked, his voice distorted and almost robotic through his mask.

The tableau froze.  There were only three other Ghosts left.  Felicity didn’t bother to look around to count the bodies on the floor.  Oliver had one of the remaining men by the neck and he was seconds away from snapping it like wishbone, one thick arm around the masked man’s neck and a hand gripping his head, his muscles bulging. 

Oliver’s.  Not the Ghost’s.  There was no sign that the Ghost was even human under all those layers of black.

It really did make it easier to do what they had to do. 

Oliver’s eyes flicked to Felicity’s and she tried to convey as best she could that she was okay.  That she _had_ this.

It must have worked because when Oliver’s eyes lifted to Head Asshole Dude and met his helmet covered eyes, Oliver’s expression was cocky and arrogant.  And his grip on the man whose life he held never wavered.

The Ghost holding her tensed.  It was the first sign of humanity and it was something Felicity probably only recognized because he had her smooshed against him.  Yick.  She could have lived without being able to sense Asshole’s muscle reactions.

Said Asshole sounded confident, though, as he demanded, “If you want your sexy little Archeologist in one piece, you’ll get on your knees, hands behind your head.”

It was kinda cool to be called an Archeologist, even if it wasn’t accurate.  Though, what was even cooler was the way Oliver shrugged and said, “If Darhk wanted us dead, we’d be dead.” 

And, goddamn, if that smirk wasn’t sexy.

Felicity wondered if it was Oliver or the weapon in her hand that was keeping her from freaking out.

Oh…or the righteous fury.  Actually, Felicity was putting her money on righteous fury.  That was getting her a lot of mileage these days.

“Who said anything about _killing_ her.”  And even with the distorted voice, Felicity had the feeling that the Ghost was smirking right back at them.  This one was definitely a person under the mask. 

Unfortunately.  Felicity found it unlikely that he would see another morning.

But maybe that was  _fortunate_ , because…Felicity went stiff as the hand around her waist moved up to close around her breast.

And it was…actually, Felicity was surprised at her own non-response.  It didn’t feel  _good_.  It was icky as frak.  But her body went numb and all she could focus on was Oliver as she watched his cocky expression melt into pure rage.  God- _damn_ -it.

Again, Felicity tried to communicate that she was  _fine_.  No biggie.  She’d been through far worse than a gloved hand on her clothed breast.

But the wordless communication thing…not working this time.  Shocker.  Great, there was no way Oliver was going to be able to keep his cool.

His muscles coiled, his entire posture morphing as he laser focused on the man behind her.  Oliver’s hands flew up, flinging the man he had been holding away so that he stumbled and fell to his knees.

But the distraction, the Ghost holding her’s cocky attitude, his play of molesting her… _exactly_ the opening Felicity was looking for.

Felicity let out a fake whimper and grabbed at the hand on her breast.  The idiot Ghost didn’t even seem to care that her hands were free, he just chuckled as she sobbed, “ _Please_ , let me go…” 

She didn’t even  _try_  to make it sound genuine.  Wasn’t worth the effort.

Then Felicity pulled back Mr. Asshole’s glove and jammed the pen dart into his hand.  One click of the trigger.  Two.  And three.

_And_ …that was enough to kill him.

Maybe. 

Or, maybe, it would just knock him out for 48 hours. 

Felicity was surprised at how little she cared one way or another.  The life of that jaguar meant more to her than the man now slumping behind her.

His weight started to fall forward and Felicity shoved him back, stepping out from under his icky creepy grip.  She was vaguely aware of him landing on the floor somewhere behind her, but she was much more interested in Oliver and the scene in front of her.

Oliver didn’t even pause a moment to acknowledge what happened.  As Asshole went limp, Oliver turned to the man still kneeling on the ground, giving him a swift kick in the head.  

And another Ghost went down and stayed down.

Then it was just Oliver against the two remaining HIVE operatives.  He didn’t pause to check on her, or even look her way.  Even so, Felicity felt certain that he was aware of her wellbeing, just as she was certain that he was aware of  _everything_  that was going on around them.

Hyper-vigilance in these types of situations was the one positive side-effect of the PTSD Oliver suffered after being stuck on that god-awful island for two years. 

The fight was fierce.  Apparently, the last two Ghosts were still alive for a reason, because the hand to hand was a dizzying display and Felicity was a bit worried that the two-on-one would eventually tire Oliver out.

Well…just a tiny bit. 

Nah. 

The longer Felicity watched, the more confident she became that it was only a matter of time before Oliver finished them both off.

It was a dance of well placed, powerful kicks and punches.  The Ghosts couldn’t use their weapons if they wanted to, Oliver wouldn’t let them near them.

Felicity considered just waiting it out and watching the show.  It was a rather gorgeous display.   Oliver was shirtless after all.  And the way he fought…it was tempting to just stand there and marvel, let herself bask in the fact that all… _that_  was hers again.

She was quite certain that watching was exactly what Oliver would want Felicity to do.

But…

Felicity’s adrenaline was still pumping.  Her muscles were primed and ready.  Her body was still humming with confidence from taking down Head Asshole Ghost.   She didn’t  _feel_  like a woman who stood by and watched the man she loved…or  _anyone_  for that matter, take on two bad guys without trying to help.

The trio shifted, giving Felicity the opportunity she needed.

Taking a running leap, Felicity landed on the back of one of the remaining Ghosts, clinging to him like a spider monkey. 

Oliver threw her a look that one part pride, two parts exasperation.  Or maybe it was the other way around.  Hard to tell.  Either way, Felicity just smiled back as she wrapped one arm around the Ghost’s eyes and, before he could even react, jabbed the pen dart into his neck. 

One.  Two.  Three clicks. 

And another Ghost went down.

Before Felicity could even begin to untangle herself (at least, the body gave her a soft landing), she heard the tell-tale sound of the other man’s neck being snapped and…when had that stopped sending a chill down her spine? 

Once upon a time, it had shocked her how easily Oliver snapped a neck, leaving her equally awed and horrified.   Now, all Felicity felt was relief.

Oliver’s hand curled around Felicity’s elbow, helping her up and away from the pile of unconscious men (or dead bodies, but she figured she’d pretend at least a few were the former) and into his arms.

It may have been super inappropriate, but Felicity let out a happy little laugh.  She couldn’t help it.  It just felt so  _good_  to stand in Oliver’s arms after a fight like that. 

A fight they had just won. 

Together. 

And to be allowed to  _hold_  him. 

Felicity was so done with battles and killing and, worse, the people she loved being in danger but if she had to be in a battle, this was the only way she ever wanted to end it.  Oliver’s arms around her and his skin (god, his _skin_ ) it was so warm and alive under her fingertips.  Proving how alive  _he_  was.  It was perfect. 

After  _everything_ …god, what a  _day_.

Oliver cupped her chin and brought it up so he could meet her eyes and Felicity could tell from his grin that he was feeling something damn similar. 

“Christ, you were magnificent.”

Before Oliver’s words could even sink into Felicity’s busily buzzing brain, his hand tangled in her hair and he pressed a hard kiss against her lips, causing the buzz to, well,  _intensify._  To off the charts levels.

When he pulled back, all Felicity could manage was another laugh.  Louder and with more joy.  “I only took down two,” she argued, beaming up at him, her hands stroking his shoulders and gliding up to encircle his neck.  Though if Felicity was honest with herself, she was pretty fraking proud.  Of _both_ of them.  “You took down, what?  Five or six?”

She looked around to count the Ghosts on the ground, but Oliver gently pulled her face back to his, saying, “You.  Were.   _Magnificent_.”  He pressed another kiss to her lips and Felicity felt his pride warm her to her bones.  “I’m so proud,” he murmured against her lips before pressing yet another too short kiss to them.  “I’m in awe.”

Thankfully, the next kiss wasn’t quite as brief.  Felicity was breathless by the end of this one and very glad for his big body to lean on, because her legs were feeling a little wobbly. 

“Oliver.” 

That was it.  All Felicity had to say.  Just ‘Oliver.’  Wow, she had forgotten it was possible to feel this way.  Happy.  Despite the carnage around them.   Though the carnage around them was probably the only thing keeping her from jumping his bones.

And, apparently, Oliver felt the same way because he let out a low growl.  Not the angry kind.  The good kind.  The sexy kind.  Then he kinda crushed her too him, his mouth surging back onto hers and his tongue sweeping into her mouth. 

God, it felt  _so_  good.

But all too soon Oliver pulled back to whisper against her mouth, “Good god, I want to make love to you.”

Felicity’s breath hitched.  Her mind went blank.  Well, blank except for the  _very vivid_  images those words inspired. 

So not very blank at all. 

“Yes.  Please.” 

Apparently, Felicity had used up her quota of words.  But, really, was there anything more that needed to be said?

Oliver chuckled, low and husky.  “But—”

But?  Meh.  Felicity hated ‘buts.’  Especially when they interfered sex with her fraking soulmate after five plus years. 

Felicity could tell Oliver was about to say something she wouldn’t like so she raised up to her tiptoes and pulled him back in, this time chasing his tongue with hers and attempting to push all those worried Negative Nellie thoughts from his head.

A low moan emerged from Oliver’s throat and, for a moment, Felicity really thought she was succeeding.   

Then he pulled back and, clearing his throat, looked pointedly over her head.  Felicity followed Oliver’s gaze…to the Ghosts littering their lovely little sanctuary. 

Frak.  If she didn’t hate them before…not even Felicity was desperate enough to have sex here now.  Damn, how the hell were they going to get rid of them all? 

Why couldn’t anything be easy?

Then Oliver added, “There are probably more on the way.  Sunshine, we need to get out of here.”

And there was  _that_.   “Mmphhh.”  Damn HIVE.  But…there was a beautiful thatch of green outside where they could sneak a few minutes…maybe?  Possibly?  Felicity pressed against Oliver and whined, “Can’t we just—?”

Oliver growled this time.  And again it was the very,  _very_  good kind of growl.  Felicity felt it all the way in her core  _that’s_  how good it was.  It was followed by an even longer kiss, deep and satisfying. 

Felicity could tell he was lingering.  Longer than he intended.  But there was a place in the back of her mind that kept whispering that Oliver was right.  They weren’t safe.  Especially with the two of them… _distracted_  as they were. 

So when Oliver finally murmured against her lips, “ _Soon_.  We have to get to safety first,” Felicity groaned, but nodded.

She didn’t want a repeat of coitus interruptus anyway.  But, damn, it felt like all they did was scurry from one ‘safe’ location to another.  Felicity was so done with this ARGUS crap.  They needed to retire.

Felicity didn’t complain, though, or try to stop him, when Oliver pulled out of her arms with one last kiss to her forehead.  They had transitioned seamlessly back to the constant casual touching they used to have (had Oliver really thought that they were fooling their teammates?) and…yeah, it was the most wonderful thing.  Might even make this annoying constant danger thing worth it. Or, at least, bearable.

As long as they both survived.

“Put on your shorts,” Oliver murmured, a hand lingering possessively on her scantily covered ass.  “Christ, I thought I was going to go feral when he touched you—”

Felicity cut Oliver off with a quick peck to the lips.  She was already reaching for her shorts on the clothes-line, his reminder of the gropy-grop Ghost making her want to be fully covered asap, even as she reassured, “I’m  _fine_.”  She glanced down at Oliver’s hand on her hip and smiled.  “I’m better than fine.”

That inspired another low growl and kiss from Oliver. Then he set her away from him, almost as if he needed there to be a minimum safe distance to keep himself from fondling her.  Felicity liked that just fine.  Found it rather satisfying as a matter of fact.

She smiled giddily and Oliver swallowed, his lips quirking up as he shook his head at her.  “Just get dressed and pack.   Only what we need most and can easily carry.  Go.”

Oliver smacked her ass, but it was so much more of a caress than a hit that she chuckled. Felicity followed his orders though, pulling on her shorts and socks.  In that moment, she would follow him into hell.  Happily.

After hastily tying up her boots, Felicity stood to grab the last of her clothes (which amounted to extra underwear and socks) and Oliver’s shirt.  She turned to him.  “Do you want—?”

Oliver had already strapped on his quiver.  Over his bare chest.  So…was he  _trying_  to distract her?   Because hottest thing ever.

But he was crouched over one of the bodies with an arrow in its neck.  And that, unfortunately, was a good deal  _less_  sexy.  Blood on Kevlar, not erotic.  And, nope, no way  _that_  Ghost was just unconscious.  Felicity hoped Oliver wasn’t feeling bad for killing—

Oliver yanked out the arrow, causing it to make an icky squishy nauseating sound.

“What are you  _doing_?” Felicity really hoped her voice didn’t sound accusing.  No way it didn’t sound grossed out. 

“Recycling,” Oliver told her, matter-of-factly, cleaning off the arrow on the Ghost’s uniform before placing it back in his quiver.

Okay then. 

Felicity pushed Oliver’s shirt into her bag with her extra socks.  He was busy.  Also, she didn’t want his only shirt to be covered in Ghost guts.  Yuck.

Luckily, Felicity had a tendency to repack as she worked, so her bag was mostly full and her task didn’t take long.  Most of the stuff from the motorcycle would have to stay behind.  It was too heavy to carry.  She shoved her tablet and the canteens into her bag (so grateful she had taken the time to refill them), scooped up a few spare protein bars, and…

Felicity took a look around the chamber.   Not at the Ghosts on the floor, but the walls and the Door and…for the first time, she realized…

“Are we really abandoning _all_   _this_ to HIVE?”  Felicity swallowed thickly.  A  _feeling_  was starting to bubble up inside her.  A strong… _something_  pulling at her insides.

They shouldn’t leave. 

They weren’t  _meant_  to leave out the front door.  

HIVE couldn’t have this place.  Evil couldn’t have this place.  It was… _wrong_.

“I don’t think we have much choice,” Oliver answered calmly, clearly unaware of the rising storm in Felicity as he moved on to ‘recycle’ the next arrow.  “We’re fish in a barrel here.  We can only defend this place for so long.  Remember the Alamo?”  

Oliver shot Felicity a sober look and she sighed, looking around once again.  He was right, but…luckily, she had already photographed everything in a painstaking way.  The obsessive ritualness of it had helped keep her calm during the hurricane and the long hours of estrangement from Oliver but…

“You are  _not_  allowed to blow this up too!” Felicity told Oliver, as soon as the thought occurred to her.  _Very_  adamantly.  Finger pointing and all. 

The risk of curses  _alone_.  Not that Felicity was going to tell Oliver that.  Was she supposed to tell Oliver now that they weren’t keeping secrets?  Did theories and suspicions count as secrets?

Oliver looked up and met her eyes again, his face serious.  He was considering it.  Blowing this place sky-high as soon as they were clear.  Felicity could tell. 

“No!”  She might have no choice but bring up the curse theory.

But, thankfully, not at that moment.  Frowning, Oliver gave her a small nod, which Felicity supposed was the best she was going to get.  Then he went back to refilling his quiver and packing his duffle bag with essentials and…

_Goddamn_  it.  She should be relieved.  Oliver had agreed.  But…Felicity still really,  _really_  didn’t want to leave.  She couldn’t explain it, but the feeling they needed to stay just kept growing. 

Sighing, she went through the motions of picking through their things.  Felicity wasn’t moving as fast as she could.  She knew that.  She was stalling, trying to come up with another solution and she knew it was just a matter of time before Oliver called her on it.

When he was done, his duffle bag over his back, crisscrossing the quiver strap on his chest, his bow firmly clutched in his hand, Oliver gingerly took the steps, no doubt to survey the situation outside their hide-hole. 

But every step Oliver took filled Felicity with irrational dread.  Her muscles wound tighter and tighter and her stomach tied itself into progressively more complex knots.  It took all her willpower to force her hands to keep moving.  Frowning, she shoved the med kit into her bag and—

“Shit!”  Oliver’s voice was quiet, but… “ _Holy_ …”

Felicity dropped her bag and snatched up her pen dart, scrambling up the stairs behind Oliver without stopping to think about whether it was a good idea or not.

He was crouched down mid-way up the stairs, the same place Felicity had sat to fix his watch not so long ago.  Oliver’s eyes were hard and serious, fixated on at point that was…out.  Though he was, as always, very aware of her presence.  He held out a hand, both an offering to help her steady herself and a warning to stay behind him.

Once Felicity was securely behind him, Oliver slotted an arrow into his bow and aimed it at a threat she had yet to see.

A threat that  _should_  be terrifying her, but Felicity’s Bizzaro body had decided to be relieved, because it meant that, for this moment at least, they were staying  _in_  the chamber.  What the frak was up with  _that_?

Before Felicity was able to get a good look outside, a loud noise…a loud  _animal_  noise, a strange warbly roar rang out, making her flinch. 

Frak.  

Also…Felicity had heard that sound before.  It was rather distinctive.

Peering out over Oliver’s shoulder, she looked…past a trail bloody bodies. Oh god,  _so_ _many bodies._ Far bloodier then the ones inside.  Even  _after_ Oliver had recycled.  For a moment, her stomach rebelled and Felicity had to swallow bile, closing her eyes briefly and breathing deeply through her nose.

There was  _no_  question of survivors out there and…holy  _crap_ …

Her jaguar. 

There was no reason for Felicity to think it was the  _same_  jaguar (as opposed to any  _other_  rare black jaguar) but, somehow, she  _knew_  it was him.   That it was his warbly roar and his devastation littered across their small patch of the jungle.

He, their Bagheera, was in a standoff with dozen Ghosts.  Frak.  That was a lot of Ghosts.  And how many were still lurking just out of sight?  There were two trucks behind them…god only knew how they had gotten  _those_  this far into the rainforest. 

And how the  _hell_  had Oliver, Mr. Super-Spidy-Sense-Guy not heard them coming? 

Yes, they were underground.  And _,_   _yes_ , they were rather… _distracted_  for the last hour or so…crap,  _this_  is what happened when agents got distracted.   _This_  was why couples weren’t supposed to be on the same team. 

_This_  was why Felicity was so  _very_  done with ARGUS.

And then there was the man who _wasn’t_ in full Ghost armor.  In fact, he wasn’t wearing armor at all.  He had eerily white blond hair and a business suit and tie.  All black. 

In the middle of the fraking jungle.  A jungle that had just been through a  _hurricane,_  only hours before.  How was he not dying of the heat?

There was only one person this could be.  If he even counted as a ‘person.’  As far as Felicity was concerned, her jaguar ranked higher.    

Damian fracking Darhk. 

Frackity frak frak and a  _fuck_  for good measure.

And, what was worse, Mr. Darhk seemed angry.  Like really,  _really_  angry.  He didn’t seem like the kind of man who got angry easily so that couldn’t be anything but horrible.

“Just  _shoot_  it, you imbeciles!” Darhk bellowed, gesturing to their poor kitty with an angry swipe of his hand.  Poor _incredibly deadly_ kitty.  “You have  _weapons_!  Extremely advanced, automatic _weapons_.  And he does not have the information we need since  _he is a cat_!  Shoot him!”

“Mmnn no,” Felicity whimpered, clutching Oliver’s shoulder.

All it did was earn her a hard warning look and a hissed, “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …”

But Felicity was  _well aware_ she had to be quiet.  The last thing they needed was Damian Darhk to know they were there, only a few feet away, his cracker jack team already… _incapacitated_. 

And Felicity knew it was insane to even  _consider_  jumping to the jaguar’s aide but…tears pricked her eyes.  The idea of these horrible people opening fire on that majestic animal…

Of course, that majestic animal had just massacred a dozen of their people. 

Why  _hadn’t_  they opened fire yet?  Darhk had a damn good point.  Bagheera was _one cat._   Powerful as he was, how could he stand up against a fricking army?

Yet, even with Darhk’s super scary command, not a single Ghost opened fire.  They must be pretty damn petrified of Bagheera to disobey the crazy guy in the suit.  The one who was getting more enraged by the second and, wow, he was even scarier when his face turned red like a tomato.  Red face, white hair…not a good combination.

“ _You_!” Tomato-face roared, pointing to one of the men frozen in front of him. 

Then Darhk flicked his hand and the man he was pointing at flew through the air, toward the jaguar.

Felicity muffled her gasp behind her hand, leaning into Oliver as he grunted a quiet, “Fucking magic.” 

Yup and Felicity….so hadn’t seen  _that_  coming.  She’d seen magic before, but _this_ was…whoa!  Like the real fraking deal.  And coming from one of the evilest men on the planet.  Crap.

“I  _said_  shoot him!!”  Darhk’s roar echoed, louder and maybe even scarier than the jaguar’s.  

But, then again, Felicity and her weird over-developed brain had started to see the cat’s roar as cute and…the poor Ghost (wow, was Felicity feeling bad for  _Ghosts_  now?) was only a couple feet away from the cat.  He had no choice but shoot or be torn to shreds.  Actually, he was probably going to be torn to shreds regardless.

The Ghost pulled the trigger and a spray of gun fire rang out.  Felicity crouched down behind the stairs, pulling at Oliver to do the same, pressing her forehead into his back. 

Felicity clung to Oliver, tears slipping free.  Her heart hurt.  Poor Bagheera.  He was better than any of them.

When silence finally fell, Oliver straightened to look out and, swallowing, Felicity did the same though she really had no desire to see a bullet riddled…

But all she saw was the Ghost ( _all_  the Ghosts really) and Damian fraking Darhk, standing there, scowling, scanning the trees around them. 

The jaguar couldn’t  _possibly_  have out run an automatic weapon.  Right?

But then, that sound came again, the roar that sounded like an odd combination of a seal’s bark and grunting growl.  It wasn’t overpowering like a lion’s roar.  Instead, it was…chilling, sending sparks of fear over a person’s skin. 

But not Felicity’s.  She smiled so wide that she had to bite her lip to keep from whooping out loud, she was so relieved.  And pretty  _damn_ impressed.  That cat…he  _deserved_  to live.

But that didn’t mean Felicity didn’t flinch along with the rest of them (except Oliver) when the jaguar shot out of nowhere, landing on the man who had shot at him.  The Ghost didn’t even have a chance to raise his weapon again, because one swipe of the cat’s large paw and his neck…

They were making a whole lot of Ghosts… _ghosts_  today.  Was that irony?  Or poetic justice?  Hmm.

Regardless, Felicity found herself averting her eyes.  It was a pretty gruesome sight.  Though, what did it say about her that she also kinda wanted to clap?

But then, someone  _did_  clap. 

Damian Darhk. 

Which was just…bizarre.  Because she was pretty sure his army was losing.  To a single feline.  That man was truly a lunatic.  With powers.  A pretty scary combination.

Darhk stepped forward again, his clap slow and measured.  Felicity shivered, licking her lips and leaning against Oliver’s shoulder as she watched.  This was all so much…more  _manageable_  with Oliver here.

“Well, well.  You, my fine furry friend, are more formidable than, well, any human on my staff,” Darhk drawled and Felicity hated him.  She really, really did.  “And more intelligent too, I’d hazard to guess.  Maybe I should take you home with me.”

“Mmph,” Felicity muffled her ‘no’ into Oliver’s skin and dug her nails into his biceps, but she couldn’t close her eyes.  She couldn’t stop watching.

Darhk stepped toward the cat… _their_  cat.  Not Damian Darhk’s.   _Their jaguar_.  The evil Jerkwad could  _not_  have him. 

But the arrogant Jerkwad in question didn’t show the slightest sign of fear as he stalked toward the deadly animal.  Darhk put out his hand the way he had when he flung his minion into battle (and certain death as it turned out) but Bagheera…

No, Bagheera wasn’t right.  Felicity had to find a better name for him.  This cat was a fierce Mayan Warrior.  He needed a  _Mayan_  name…

But as Felicity’s, admittedly, crazy brain contemplated proper names for their jaguar friend, Darhk’s magic was doing…nothing. 

Absolutely  _nothing_.

And Felicity didn’t know who was more shocked by this.  Her or Darhk.  In fact, she would have wondered if something was even  _supposed_  to happen if it weren’t for Darhk’s expression turning, well, darker and darker. 

How did one get a name like Darhk anyway? It couldn’t be real, right?  If he chose it himself then it was…rather unoriginal.  And if he was born with it, well,  _that_  had been a particularly bad omen.

Finally, after flicking his wrist impotently for a minute or two (Felicity would have chuckled if it wasn’t all so…well,  _terrifying_ ) Darhk let out an ugly growl and turned, flinging his arm out at his own men and sending four of them flying. 

Then, hands settling on his hips, Darhk shrugged.  “Well, still works.” 

What kind of asshole turns on his own people just to prove he’s not impotent?  Pathetic. 

But, then, Darhk turned back to  _Felicity’s_  jaguar and asked, “What  _are_  you, my fine furry friend?”  It sent chills down her spine.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t an excellent question, though.

The ugliest expression yet settled over Darhk’s face as he narrowed his eyes at the great cat.  “Let’s see if you can survive all my men firing at you at once, shall we?”

The Ghosts raised their guns and, this time, Felicity wasn’t able to control the, “No!” that flew from her mouth.

Oliver grunted, “Fuck!  _Felicity_!” frustration evident in his tone.  He stood, pulling out a thicker arrow from his quiver.  “Brace yourself!”

Felicity threw out an arm and fell to one knee, watching as if in slow motion as the arrow flew past the Ghosts, landing squarely in the side of one of the trucks.  Right where the gas-line should be….

There was a ball of red fire…followed immediately by an even larger one.

Then the truck flew up into the air….

Oliver spun around, curling over her and blocking her view with his big body. 

Felicity felt the heat though.  Heard the explosions.  Smelled the smoke. 

The ground shook.

Smoke billowed into the opening of the chamber, but Oliver pulled her down the stairs before it could fill their lungs, though the acrid smell remained.  Felicity could taste the smoke.  It burned her throat with every breath.

Felicity wondered if it was real or another burgeoning flashback but…god, they  _really_  didn’t have time for another stupid flashback.

“Grab your stuff,” Oliver instructed.  “We have 30 seconds to get everything we need and get away before the smoke clears.”

Not even pausing to think, Felicity scrambled to her bag, swinging into onto her shou—

There was a flash of blue.

Frak her.  The moonstone.  It must have fallen out of her pocket.  Felicity scooped it up and…

She froze. 

The moonstone lay in the palm of her hand.  And…Felicity just stared at it.  It was…she had forgotten something…something important…

“Felicity, we need to—Jesus Fucking Christ!”

The air had suddenly gotten very thick.  And not from the smoke.  In fact, Felicity couldn’t even smell the smoke.  Not anymore. 

It felt like she was moving through water.  Never-the-less, Felicity glanced up, over her shoulder, and was surprisingly… _unsurprised_  to find their jaguar descending the stairs.

Oliver stepped backwards.  She could tell without looking at him that he was tense and ready to fight.  He moved closer to Felicity, grabbing an arrow—

“No,” Felicity told him quietly, reaching out to touch his arm to still him. 

She wasn’t sure why though.  Actually, it almost felt like someone else was in the driver’s seat, controlling her…no, that was wrong.   _Guiding_  her.  It felt like something, _someone_ was guiding her.  And, strangely, it didn’t feel weird or wrong.  Felicity felt calm.  Confident.

“Fel—”

“Kinich Ahau won’t hurt us.”  The name emerged from her mouth before the words had fully formed in Felicity’s mind.  But it felt  _right_.  It  _was_ right.  She was certain of that.  Turning, she met the great cat’s eyes.  His blue, blue eyes.   “Will you?”

Kinich Ahau just tilted his head to the side, watching her patiently.  There was nothing threatening in his stance or posture.  His tail was relaxed.  And Felicity knew with every fiber of her being that he wasn’t a danger.  Not to them.

Oliver grunted, low in his throat.  He didn’t seem to agree with her.  But that was okay.  Felicity had confidence enough for both of them.

Even if that confidence  _was_  strange and other worldly or…something.  Felicity had no idea what it was, actually, but it told her to hold out her hand to the cat, revealing the moonstone. 

So she did.

“We have the moonstone,” Felicity told the jaguar.  As if that were a sane thing to do.  As if he would or  _could_  answer back. 

It didn’t feel insane, though.  It felt right.  Felicity’s body was calm in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.  It felt as if things were finally falling into place.

Kinich Ahau looked at Felicity’s hand, then back up at her and she would swear he met her eyes, looking deep into her soul.  She even had the odd feeling he liked what he saw.  He sat back, giving her another head tilt. 

His look seemed to say, ‘Yes, I see.  Now what are you going to do about it?’

“It’s important, isn’t it?”  The only thing that seemed strange was that Felicity hadn’t realized it before.  Hadn’t realized the moonstone was a  _huge_  part of the puzzle.  “It’s the key to…” Oh god…the pieces clicked into place and giddiness bubbled up inside her and she almost laughed.  “It’s  _the_  key.  It’s  _literally_  the key!”

Felicity squealed and spun around to face Oliver with a broad and excited smile.  He was looking at her wide-eyed and wary, confused, but he didn’t stop her…he  _trusted_  her…as she ran to the Door and shoved the moonstone cleanly into the irregular cavity in the center of the palm print sun. 

“It’s the missing piece,” Felicity breathed.  Then, turning to Oliver and Kinich Ahau, she all but sang, “It’s the missing  _piece_!”

Kinich Ahau stretched and laid down, lazily placing his head on his paws and simply watching.  He seemed content enough with how things were going.  It only further convinced Felicity of the  _rightness_  of it all.

Oliver’s eyes flew from the cat to Felicity and back again.  “How…how did we not think of that—?”

Felicity cut him off with a delirious sort of laugh.  “We weren’t ready.” Again, the answer just came to her.  “I don’t think we were meant to.  Not yet.”  She dropped her bag at her feet and gestured Oliver over.  “Come on.”  She placed her hands in the imprints and waited.

Taking one last wary look at their friend, Oliver moved to approach her, but then stopped and turned, pointing a finger at Kinich Ahau.  “Just remember that we didn’t kill you when we had the chance.  And there is _plenty_ of fresh meat just waiting for you over there.” Oliver gestured to bodies on the ground.  Then he shook his head, muttering to himself, “I’ve gone insane.”

Finally, Oliver let out a deep breath and curled himself around her.  It was very different than the other two times they had done this.  Then he had been stiff, intent on holding himself apart from her. 

This time, Oliver molded himself to Felicity, enveloping her, touching  _as much_  of her as he could, his lips pressed against her temple.

What a difference a day makes. 

It was beyond perfect.  Felicity had never felt such flawless contentment.

“Let’s pray this works,” Oliver murmured, his face nestled between her neck and shoulder, sending warm streaks of sensation racing along her skin.

Felicity leaned back into Oliver and smiled.  He placed his hands in the palm prints and she felt his overlap hers. 

“It will.”

Felicity had never been so certain of anything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More photographs and art for this chapter [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167419519502/reread-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter-18-last))
> 
> A note on the killing in this chapter.  Both Oliver and Felicity kill without much hesitation.  And here’s my justification (which is also the reason why this Oliver is better adjusted here than Cannon!Oliver): They’re not a vigilantes.  They’re not taking the law into his own hands.  On the Island, Oliver killed in self-defense.  Here, he kills because it’s his job.  A government sanctioned job.  A Navy Seal when faced with an aggressive enemy combatant uses deadly force.  Plain and simple.  I put both Oliver and Felicity in this the same category.  So, while they both carry their share of guilt, there is a lot less gray.  That’s how I see it any way.
> 
> Thank you to **Godsfool** for queuing me into my jaguar’s friends strange roar.  Check it out in this YouTube video:  [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/160414471575/jaguar-roar-this-poor-baby-is-in-a-zoo-but-i) **.**
> 
> My infinite thanks to my three wonderful Betas and friends **Ireland1733** , **Fairytalehearts** , and **imusuallyobsessed**.  They make all of this worth it.  Well, them and all the wonderful people who leave such lovely comments.
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	20. Chapter19: The Antechamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167421453561/previously-on-to-sacrifice-the-sun) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 18, 2016_  
_18:39_  
_The Antechamber_  
_Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

It most definitely worked.

Their hands…well,  _her_  hands, but Felicity assumed it was  _their_  hands because why wouldn’t Oliver be feeling the same warm tingly feeling emanating from the limestone where their hands fit perfectly into the palm print sun?

The moonstone began to glow, as if a light had lit it from behind and even though their hands were covering it she could see the blue glow spilling from around their hands and giving of an other-earthly light.  

Felicity really thought she  _should_  think that this was weird.  Really, it was something out of a movie.  This kind of thing didn’t happen.  Not in real life.

Of course, men didn’t generally get thrown across the jungle with a flick of the wrist and jaguars didn’t survive lethal doses of sedatives to outrun machine guns.

All in all, this should be freaking Felicity out.

Yet, for some  _really_  strange reason, it felt  _completely_  normal. And, more than that, for some reason, it made Felicity incredibly happy.  

_Wow_ , was she happy.

The whole room now seemed to take on that otherworldly blue glow, made more prominent by the fact that the only glow ball that was still on was one in Oliver’s pocket, where the heavy fabric of his cargo shorts muted the light.

Felicity felt an almost unearthly calm come over her and she melted back into Oliver, letting the unfamiliar sensation of total relaxation seep into her bones and merge with the incredible feeling of Oliver surrounding her…his skin, his smell, his warmth.  Even his love seemed to be a physical sensation and Felicity almost wished she could stand here, like this, forever.  

Wrapped in Oliver’s arms, his lips pressed against her temple, Felicity had the most intense sensation of… _home_.

Then the stone started to creak…which, of course, it would.  To get through the Door it needed to  _move_ which, of course, was what they  _wanted_.  Whatever they were looking for was on the other side.  Felicity knew that as surely as she knew her own name.  

And Felicity couldn’t wait.  Couldn’t wait to get through.  To see what was on the other side.  

Which should be in direct opposition with the desire to to stay in Oliver’s arms like this forever, but it didn’t feel like a conflict.  In that moment, Felicity couldn’t imagine feeling conflicted about  _anything_.  She had trouble imagining conflict could exist in her life.  She felt like she was floating.

With more patience than she usually possessed, Felicity nuzzled her head against Oliver’s chin and waited.  Waited for the Door to finish moving, vaguely wondering where it would go since there was no ground for it to disappear into.

What Felicity hadn’t expected was for the entire wall to, kinda… _spin_.  Only the floor beneath them didn’t and when the stone door broke free of the wall it was connected to, it started to move rather quickly…like when a kid suddenly jumped into a revolving door and decided to race.

Thank god for Oliver and his quick reflexes, because he grabbed Felicity around her waist and pulled her through to the other side just in time to keep her from getting flattened by several tons of limestone.

But Felicity just smiled.  She knew it was going to be okay.   _Everything_  was going to be okay.

They were going home.

After all this time, Oliver and Felicity were going home.

Then they were in a long tunnel, dimly lit by only the glow ball in Oliver’s pocket and the rapidly dimming blue of the moonstone.  He let go of her to grab her bag and pulled it through just as the Door met the wall again and started slowly creaking back into place.  

Sealing them on the other side.

Felicity found herself staring, watching as the stone seamlessly fitted back together.  Wasn’t that odd?   It felt like the physics of that shouldn’t work.  It should look like a distinct, separate slab of limestone, but it didn’t.  It almost looked like it had been plastered over. 

But that couldn’t be right.  It had to be a trick of the light. 

All Felicity seemed to be able to do then was blink and watch as Oliver crouched down, examining the Door, studying it…

Because Felicity…

She was disoriented.  Felicity was feeling…

Suddenly, all those happy confident feelings were gone.  

Like  _poof_  gone.  

Like a balloon that had just been popped.  

Felicity no longer felt like she was floating.  In fact, she felt like she had crashed onto the hard, dirty stone floor.  She felt cold.  

It was dark and quiet… _eerily_  quiet in there.  Damp and cold and…

It took Felicity a moment to realize she was trembling.  All over.

What happened?  Where were they?

Crossing her arms and hugging herself tight, Felicity looked around.  Dear god, they were in an  _underground_  tunnel and…

Had Felicity  _really_  just turned her back on a killer jaguar to…what?  Get them trapped underground?  All because of a… _hunch_?  A feeling?  What the _hell_ was wrong with her?

The whole time, Felicity had been so confident and now…she just felt stupid.  It made no sense.  It was illogical.  And she wasn’t sure what was  _more_ illogical, her behavior or… _everything_!  What was going on?  How…?  Why…?  

None of this made sense.  None of it.

“Well, I don’t think HIVE will be getting through  _this_ …” Oliver turned to look up at Felicity and froze, his brow crinkling in a frown as he stood.  Which made sense, since if she looked as bad as she felt she couldn’t imagine it was good.  “Are you okay?”

Felicity wasn’t sure how to answer that.  

“No.”  Okay, maybe she did.  Honest.  Concise.  To the point.  “No, I don’t think I am.”  

She even shook her head for good measure, because Felicity was just  _that_  not okay and it seemed she no longer had the capacity to keep anything from Oliver…and  _that_ , at least, was a good thing.

“Oliver…”  Felicity wanted to reach for him, but she was too cold to uncross her arms.  “Oliver?  What just happened?”  

Felicity really didn’t like the desperate, pitiful sound of her own voice, but it brought Oliver to her and when his hands closed over her shoulders, it helped.  It really did.

Enough to allow her to uncross her arms and launch herself at him, burrowing into Oliver’s chest as his arms automatically enveloped her.  God, sometimes, Felicity just adored how big he was.  It made her feel so safe.

“Hey, you’re trembling,” Oliver murmured, concern and confusion evident in his voice as he rubbed her back and shoulders in a brisk sort of way that was so very helpful to the goosebumps that had emerged.

“Yup.  Yup, I know,” Felicity muttered into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to figure out what the  _hell_  was going on.  “ _That_  I know…I don’t know much else but—”

“Hey, hey…” Oliver pulled back, clearly trying to get a look at her face, but she wasn’t giving up the comfort of his man-breasts without a fight, even if her glasses, were, again, in the way and probably pinching him.  

Well, maybe not  _that_  much of a fight, because when Oliver gently urged her chin up, Felicity complied, even managing to open her eyes for him.  He had just that kind of power over her. The concern she saw on his face made her whimper and tighten her arms, pressing closer.

“What’s going on?” Oliver it asked in a soft careful tone.  The one he so used so rarely.  “You were fine.  Better than fine.  You seemed completely confident.  I figured you’d made some connection in that brilliant mind of yours—”

That made Felicity laugh.   _Hysterically_.  “I don’t think if my  _brilliant mind_  had anything to do with it.”  Her  _brilliant mind_ had no idea what happened.  In fact, she’s never felt _less_ brilliant.

Oliver shook his head, clearly lost and Felicity could see his worry mounting.  “You were  _fine_ ,” he repeated in a whisper.  

Dammit to hell.

“I was.  I was…well, I felt normal until…”  Felicity tried to reassure him, but then her flapping gums took over and words came spewing out of her mouth, “Well, at least, as normal as anyone could feel with several dozen masked men and a crazy guy with superhuman powers and a killer jaguar that seemed more human than any of them…did all that  _actually_  happen?”

Oliver chuckled.  Which was good.  Or it would be if Felicity couldn’t still see the tension in his forehead, the worry in his eyes.  “Yes, it did.”

“Okay, good,” Felicity breathed, then shook her head because what an  _asinine_  thing to say.  “I mean…not good.  None of that was  _good_.  Well, I suppose  _some_  of it was good.  Or maybe it’s just good that it wasn’t a hallucination.  I’m crazy enough, right?”  She gave a desperate sounding laugh and Oliver pulled her closer.

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty…”_  It sounded like a warning, of what she had no idea.  Maybe Oliver just wasn’t keen on her making fun of her own mental health.

But, right then, Felicity was feeling far from mentally stable. And, god, what she wouldn’t do to erase the whole last however many minutes and go right back to the part where she was on her back on the bedroll with Oliver’s hands under her shirt.

Well, at least,  _that_  thought warmed her up.

“The Darhk part certainly was not good.  Especially the magic and the flying people and the blood—”

“Felicity, sweet, you’re rambling.  Focus for me.”

Oh.  She was still talking.  Felicity hadn’t realized.  She felt really… _scattered_.  Which was actually a pretty normal feeling for her.  She could handle an unusually level of scattered-ness but this was way  _beyond_  even for her.  She was having trouble pulling together a coherent thought.  

But Oliver wanted her to focus so she should at least try.  Plus, it sounded like a good idea.

“I didn’t feel weird until…” Felicity racked her brain trying to…

Then Felicity’s eyes fell on the moonstone, still sitting in the center of the palm print sun.  

“Until I touched the moonstone.” A chill ran down Felicity’s spine as she realized what had happened and she clutched Oliver tighter.

But Oliver was straining his neck to look at the stone, which was still kinda…glowing.  

How the hell was it  _glowing_!  There was no scientific explanation for that and…dear god, that thing had  _done_  something to her.

Oh.  Oh that was…that was…really  _fraking_  messed up!

“I didn’t even realize until it went away,” Felicity muttered, trying not to freak out.  She thought she was kinda probably failing.  Big time.  “And that just makes it scarier, because it was like…affecting me, _controlling_  me and I didn’t even know it.  If I didn’t know better, I would say that I was under a spell, but that’s ridiculous.”  

Felicity laughed because it was just  _that_  ridiculous.  There were no such things as _spells_.  What _was_ this, Harry Potter?  

“Maybe it isn’t really a moonstone.” Because how could Felicity be drugged by a piece of rock?  “It’s not like I’m a geological expert.  It could be something…something with chemical properties that—”

“What did it feel like?” Oliver’s soft question pulled Felicity out of her science-versus-magic freak out.  She really wished Caitlin were here or…they seriously should have sent Constantine’s team on this mission.  This was  _not_  Felicity’s expertise.  

Blowing out a breath, Felicity rested her cheek against Oliver’s chest again, weighing the pros and cons of removing her glasses to get closer, as she tried to gather her thoughts.  To remember.  To use that so called brilliant mind Oliver was so fond of. 

There had to be a rational explanation.  It was there.  Felicity just needed to find it.

“At first…at first, I didn’t feel that different.  I just kinda… _knew_  stuff I hadn’t before.”   Assuming the stuff she  _knew_  was even true.  So, maybe ‘ _knew’_  was too strong a word.   “It just felt like…I thought something was clicking, like that ‘ah ha’ moment where everything suddenly makes sense.  Then I stopped thinking about  _why_  it was happening and…suddenly, I knew that the moonstone was the key and the jaguar’s name and—”

“Did you hear him speak to you?”

Felicity jerked back, her eyes flying to Oliver’s, glad the glasses were still on after all.  “Who?  Kinich Ahau?  _No_!  That would be  _cra-zy?”_   

Exactly how nuts did Oliver think she was?

But Oliver wasn’t joking.  He didn’t even look worried any longer.  His expression was calm and serious, like the clues they were piecing together weren’t bizarre and supernatural. “Felicity,” he drawled, his lip tipped up at the side, “you were having a conversation with that jaguar.  Unspoken or not, you were having a conversation with a  _bullet proof_  cat—”

“But not tranq proof.  Isn’t it odd that he’s bulletproof but not tranq proof?”  Why Felicity felt the need to interrupt with that little tidbit she would never know, but her thoughts were at their nonlinear best.

Oliver’s lips quirked and amusement lit his eyes.  It might have annoyed Felicity if it wasn’t for the fact that his eyes never looked amused by her without also being full of affection.  It was a two-fer.  

“But not tranq proof, Oliver repeated indulgently, “though those two hits should have killed him.”  He caught that to, huh? “I don’t think hearing him speak is much crazier—”

“It  _is_ ,” Felicity insisted.  “Hearing him talk would have been just  _that_  much crazier.”  It was a line.  One she had not crossed.  Thank god.

_Oliver_  gave a small nod, his eyes wide and warm, his lips pressed together.  “If you say so.”  He didn’t even pretend not to be placating her.

Felicity debated being irritated, but asked instead, “So…all that with the jaguar and Darhk _that_ actually happened, right?”  She knew she was repeating herself but…

Chuckling, Oliver nodded.  “Pretty sure.”

“Just checking.  It all feels so…unreal looking back.  I think I felt…high almost?”  That was exactly how it felt.   “Not that I have a lot of experience—”

Oliver cut her off with a brief kiss this time, which meant that the rambling was getting really bad.  “I know.  What happened after we got into the tunnel?”

The tunnel?  Felicity’s eyes flew to the ceiling.  The rather close, rock ceiling.  And the walls.  Oh frack, it was cramped in here.  The chamber was a veritable palace compared to how narrow and, god, Oliver’s head barely cleared the ceiling!

“Oh my god, we’re in a  _tunnel_!”  Felicity was starting to feel a little sick.   “Are we underground?”  Of _course,_ they were underground. But was kind of scary, right?  Because they had just been  _sealed in_ here!  Underground.  Like a coffin…  “Where the hell are we?  Do you think we’re trapped?  Where is the—?”

Another kiss, longer this time.  And when Oliver pulled back, he must have picked up on her panic, because he murmured, “It’s okay,” against her lips.

It helped.  It really helped but, yeah… _still_  freaking out.  “But—”

It was becoming predictable, exactly what level of panic Felicity had to express to bring Oliver’s lips back on hers.  It really wasn’t motivating Felicity to calm the frak down.  

Actually…well, it  _was_  motivating her to forget the damn tunnel and remember that she hadn’t made love with the love of her life in half a decade.  God, shed missed him.

And,  _un_ like five minutes ago, they were alone.  And safe.  Free of the carnage that had surrounded them in the Chamber.

Not to mention, if they were going to be trapped underground, Felicity wanted to spend every second she had left naked with Oliver.

Letting out a whimper, Felicity threaded her hands into Oliver’s hair and when he tried to pull back again (clearly, his intent was  _just_  to derail her babbles and he needed to understand that wasn’t going to fly), she pulled him back in and ran her tongue over his lower lip.  

He wasn’t all that difficult to convince.  Oliver let out a soft moan and Felicity swooped in, stroking her tongue over his.  This was  _much_  better.

Her brain was starting to get fuzzy again.  Only, this time, she definitely knew the cause and was very happy to let it run its course.

So, of course, that was when Oliver disengaged with a regretful moan.  “Felicity,  _Sunshine_ , we have to figure out where we are.”

Did they?  Did they  _really_?  

She tried to pull him back in.  After all, Oliver had started this with his whole kissing her to keep her quiet thing.  He’d made promises with that luscious mouth of his and Felicity fully expected him to keep those promises.  

“We’re in an underground tunnel.  It sucks, but we’re currently safe so…” Felicity lurched up to her toes to capture his lower lip.

Oliver let out a low growl and yanked her hips closer.  Which was good, very good.  

But then…goddamn it!  Oliver must have changed his mind because he tipped his head up so she couldn’t reach his lips.  So not cool.  Running her mouth over his gorgeous neck seemed like an appropriate punishment…

“Since when are you claustrophobic?”  Oliver asked and…hmm, he had caught that, huh?

Felicity was pretty sure it was a serious question, but she really didn’t appreciate the reminder.  Also, there was clearly at least  _part_  of Oliver that was still on her side, the hormone driven side.  Because, despite his question, he was panting and cupping the back of her head as she ran her teeth from his neck to his collarbone.  Damn man was too tall.

“Umm…since now?” Felicity answered, hoping that was enough of an answer for them to get back to business at hand.

Oliver laughed and stepped back, putting a full inch between their bodies.  Which was  _way_  too far away.  It was rather annoying.  

“You are  _not_ claustrophobic, Felicity.  You just spent five years living in a cave—”

The annoying distance gave Felicity the leave to roll her eyes at him.  “That was a very different sort of _CAVE_ , Oliver.  High ceilings, tons of tech, lots light.”

She hadn’t even gotten the sentence out before Oliver pulled the glow ball out of his pocket, holding it up and throwing the entire space into…what was the opposite of darkness?  Illumination?  Heh, Illumnisphere.  Maybe it wasn’t a bad name after all.

The problem was, light or no light, there wasn’t much to see.  Just rock and more rock.  Some dirt. A tunnel that cleared Oliver’s head by less than an inch.  It was even narrower than it was high.  And it just seemed to go on and on.

“Does this help?” Oliver asked.

Felicity swallowed, as she looked around, thoughts of their lovely make-out session starting to fade away as her stomach knots started to re-tie.  “No.  No, I don’t think it does.”

“Sweetheart? Sunshine?  Look at me.”  Oliver murmured, putting the glow ball back in his pocket.    _That_ was actually better.  It was better to not see how never-ending their prison was.  Also, it left his hands free to hold her which was a far worthier use for them.

Gulping, Felicity did as he asked and was rewarded by Oliver cupping her cheek and giving her a small encouraging smile.  

“Can’t we go back to kissing?” Felicity asked, though she knew the answer.  It was the answer her rational brain would give too but…kissing was so much better than… _whatever_  this cold worried feeling was.

Chuckling (as if it had actually been a joke), Oliver pressed a kiss to Felicity’s head, but he did put his arm around her shoulder and let her snuggle into him so that made up for it.  Mostly. 

“No.  We’ll have all the time in the world for that.”

Ha!  Felicity wished.

“Now… _now_  we need to talk about how I really don’t think that you are claustrophobic.”  Oliver had too much faith in her mental stability.  “I’m pretty sure this is some sort of…post magic crash.”

“What?  _No!”_  That was insane.  Oft.  No such thing!  It wasn’t even worth contemplating.  She preferred claustrophobia.  Felicity shook her head.   “I don’t believe in magic.”

Oliver’s eyes widened and he stared down at her incredulously.  “How can you even  _say_  that?”

Felicity wrinkled her nose, feeling a little ridiculous.  But she shrugged and said defensively, “Magic is just science we haven’t figured out yet.”  So  _there_.  A very intelligent argument if she did say so herself.  

“Umm hmm.”  Felicity did not like Oliver’s tone.  “Okay.  Well…then, there is a lot of _unexplained science_ going on.   Like say…a two-ton spinning stone wall that’s older than Christ.”

Yeah…there was  _that_.  

“Maybe…maybe the, moonstone is some sort of power source.”  Ooo, Felicity was liking this theory.  It made sense.  She could work with this.  She just wished she had Cait or Curtis or Cisco to bounce the theory off.  “And the warmth and pressure of our hands—”

“It really felt like it had to be a  _specific_  set of hands,” Oliver interrupted, sounding skeptical.

He didn’t say it had to be  _their_  hands, but Felicity knew that was what he was thinking.  “But—”

“ _But_ ,” Oliver cut her off, which was kinda good, because Felicity didn’t actually have a ‘but.’  It had felt like that to her too.  “Let’s be sure to remove our ‘power source.’  I really don’t think it should be left behind.”

Oliver stepped out of her arms to go back over to the moonstone and, immediately, Felicity felt chilled again.  

Which wasn’t surprising.   Nothing magical about it.  They were underground.  Oliver was a living furnace so, of  _course_ , Felicity felt colder without his body heat.  Yup, totally logical.  

But…wow, it was quiet down there.  As in really  _really_  quiet.  A complete absence of sound.  Their voices didn’t even carry. 

Felicity shivered and dug her nails into her arms to keep from being needy and reaching out for Oliver.  She pressed her lips tightly together and watched as a gentle touch had the moonstone dropping into Oliver’s hand.

Felicity hugged herself, her eyes on the door.  “Do you think Darhk will be able to get through?”  Because the last thing they needed was to be trapped underground  _with_  that lunatic.  

“Well, the wall is over a foot thick and our ‘power source’...” Oliver held up the moonstone and wagged his eyebrows, “is with us so…”

Felicity blushed and tipped her chin down to hide her smile.  Oliver teasing her was quickly becoming her Achilles heel.  She had never fully appreciated it before.  “Unless Darhk goes your whole exploding arrow route.”  She shuddered as she said it, just thinking about the cave in it could cause.

Oliver shook his head.  He looked confident.  Which was rather reassuring, actually.  “First, he has to figure out where we disappeared to.  The more logical explanation is that we just snuck back into the jungle.  Hopefully, he’ll waste a whole lot of time looking for us there.”

Made sense.  Felicity nodded, feeling somewhat better.  “If you didn’t kill him.”  

Because that  _was_  always a possibility with an explosion like that.  Felicity couldn’t help but smile at the thought.  _Wow_ , she had gotten blood thirsty.

But Oliver scrunched up his nose and gave her an apologetic look.  “Something tells me Darhk is about as easy to kill as our feline friend.”

Felicity grunted.  Unfortunately, she agreed.

“I do, however, think I took out quite a few Ghosts and at least one truck.  It should definitely slow them down.”

“So should our feline friend,” Felicity added.  These were all reassuring arguments and everything Oliver said was perfectly logical, so she wasn’t sure why she shivered.

And, of course, Oliver noticed.  “Hey, we’re going to be fine—”

“I’m just cold,” Felicity insisted, telling herself that she wasn’t lying.  On the plus side, Oliver stepped back into her space and rubbed her arms.  “Much better.”  She smiled up at him because that was  _definitely_  not a lie.

Oliver returned her smile, holding her gaze.  “Honestly, Felicity, Damian Darhk doesn’t strike me as someone who would casually blow up a Magical—”

“Scientifically Advanced,” Felicity corrected, only half-teasing.  But that half  _did_  show she was feeling better. “So scientifically advanced we can’t understand it.  Yet.”

Her (half) joke seemed to relax Oliver, as well, and he laughed.  “When did you become Scully?” 

That pulled laugh out of Felicity as well.  “I’ve  _always_  been Scully.  When did  _you_  become Mulder?”

The grin Oliver gave her made her warm to her bones.  And maybe her core.  “That’s what you get for making me watch all seven seasons of the X-files.”

“There were nine seasons.  I only made you watch seven.”  Ten seasons now, but Felicity saw no reason to bring up  _anything_  that happened in the last five years.  HIVE was all the angst she could handle right then.  

Especially with Oliver staring down at her with that wonderfully dopey, lovesick expression that Felicity just knew she mirrored.  

“So… _this_  happened, too, right?”  Felicity gestured between them, taking the tiniest step closer to him (even though they hadn’t been all that far apart in the first place). “The you and me…back together  _thing_.”  Just saying it made her dizzy.  In a good way this time.  The best possible way.

The question didn’t have the effect Felicity had hoped for…which was, maybe, a couple more kisses…

Instead, Oliver frowned.  “Is that fuzzy too—?”

“Oh no.  No no noooo,” Felicity rushed to reassure.  Maybe, it was too soon to tease about that.  “That whole thing is  _clear_.  As in crystal.  I just like confirmation.  It always helps to hear in again.   _Especially_ when things are too good to be true—”

Oliver let out a breath and cut her off with a kiss and that was  _much_  more like it.  He cupped Felicity’s cheek as he did a really good job… _confirming_  everything.  Excellent job.

The kiss was slow and sweet, but quickly grew out of control.  Felicity might have had something to do with that, because,  _god_ , she’d missed him.  And wanted him.  And loved him and…

If they didn’t have to worry about Darhk than they could take some time, right?  Release some of this pesky…tension?  Felicity was sure they would both think so much better after they did.

“How was that?” Oliver asked.

Felicity had forgotten the question, but answered anyway, “Good.  Awesome, really.  Actually, I think I could use some more,” she stepped fully into Oliver’s space as the previous conversation came back to her, “ _reassurance_.   Frequent, repeated reassurance.”

Oliver chuckled.  “I’ll keep that in mind.  For later.”  It was a good thing he was still holding her tightly, still staring down at her with those lovely heart-eyes.  Otherwise, Felicity might just be peeved.  “So…um…what were we talking about…?”

Well, it was good to know that Felicity wasn’t the only one that was easily distracted by… _this_.  

“Damian Darhk,” Felicity grumbled.  God, she hoped that explosion killed him.

“Right, Damian Darhk.”  Oliver dropped a kiss onto her nose and, really, this was the  _only_  way Felicity wanted to talk about any mission related information ever again.  “He doesn’t strike me as a guy who casually blows up…sacred artifacts the way I did, risking curses.”

Felicity’s eyebrows flew up at that.  She wouldn’t have been surprised if her jaw was on the floor.

“What?” Oliver asked.  “You didn’t think it occurred to me that that our  _tremendous_  string of bad luck could have been set in motion by my blowing up those tombs at Palenque?”

Okay.  So…maybe Felicity hadn’t give Oliver the credit he deserved.  All this time, she had been worried about bringing the possibility up.  

“I didn’t…” Okay, how to say this without making it sound like Felicity had underestimated him?   “I hoped you hadn’t, but I should never have misjudged your ability to find another thing to add to your guilt mountain.” Plus…. “Also, I don’t believe in curses.”  She grinned widely at the end, hoping to lighten the mood.

But Oliver’s eyes darkened and he turned his head away.  Felicity could actually see the guilt eroding at his features.

“ _Oliver_ …” Damn it!  “Even if such a thing were possible, which really it isn’t, it wouldn’t be _your_ fault.  Remember you promised…not your fault—”

That earned Felicity a slight quirk of his lips.  “Your rule doesn’t apply here.  That was referring to the past and I  _did_  blow up those tombs.  It was completely my call.  So if that triggered a curse that caused Roy—”

Oh no!   _Not_  going there.  “It  _didn’t_!”

“You don’t know—”

“Also, it was cryptic but it looked to me like Digg ordered you to—”

Oliver grunted.  “ _Felicity_ —"

“Okay.”  Felicity put up her hands in surrender.  She didn’t want to argue and just the mention of this had her anxiety about Roy and the others was rising too and neither of them needed that right now.  “Since we have no way of checking on Roy,  _and_  there are more pressing matters, maybe we should table this conversation and—”

“Move on?” Oliver jumped in, giving a small, but eager nod.  “I would appreciate that.”

Thank god.  At least, Oliver wasn’t going to give in to a full-on guilty sulk.  Though his guilt was really something they needed to work on.  It was irrational in it’s…all encompassing- _ness_.

Felicity flashed a smile, attempting to tease, “So is there anything else that you were brooding about during our first day here?  I’d thought the list was rather long, but it seems like it just keeps getting longer and…”

Felicity trailed off at the look in Oliver’s eyes.  Frak.  She had been joking but clearly, she had stumbled onto something here.  There was a flash of pain and…maybe even panic in his blue depths.

“ _Is_  there something else?”  Felicity wasn’t sure if she was glad she had pressed or sorry about it.

Oliver swallowed and if that wasn’t confirmation Felicity didn’t know what was.  

Purposefully, she reached up to massage the muscles on the back of Oliver’s neck, gentling her voice, “You can tell me anything, you know.  If we want to start over with a clean slate—”

“It’s stupid,” Oliver muttered, shaking his head and starting to pull away.

The thing was…this was very different from how Oliver had been responding to her all day…well, ever since that first kiss, at least and,  _wow_ , it had been a  _long_  day.  

It was hard to even comprehend that this morning they were holed in the Antechamber from a hurricane barely speaking to each other. It was amazing how much things had changed.  For the better but…

There was something about the way that Oliver was avoiding the topic that made Felicity really nervous.  “Stupider than everything  _I_  did?” she offered, trying to wheedle it out of him. The more he avoided the topic the more nervous she got.  “Stupider than the reason I put us both through five years of hell—?”

Oliver turned back to drop a kiss on Felicity’s forehead, stopping her with, “That was less stupid and more misguided.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at that.  “Mmm, nice save.”  Because  _really_  it was just semantics.

“Your heart was in the right place,” Oliver argued.

And Felicity would never be more grateful for anything that Oliver thought so but…she needed to know what he was hiding.  “Are you going to tell me?”

Oliver sighed, his head falling back.  “It’s stupid.  Honestly.  I knew it was stupid at the time.  Irrational.  And now that I know why you really…”  He blew out a breath.  “Talking about it will just be an emotional nighma—”

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity interrupted, because even though she was starting to believe this was going to be painful to hear, the longer Oliver spoke, the more she realized  _not knowing_ would be even worse.  “Clean slate, remember.”  She kept her voice gentle.  She was proud of herself for managing it, actually.  “I’ll be okay.  I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?  I can handle whatever this is too.”

“I know you can,” Oliver whispered, but his face was far from convinced.  He frowned at the floor as his hands clenched and unclenched at her waist.  Felicity could tell from his expression the exact moment he gave in.  “Remember the panic attack you had at the Temple of the Sun?  After I blew up the tombs—?”

“The flashback, but yeah.” It was hard to forget.  This wasn’t more about the supposed curse, was it?  Or…?  “Is this about me not kissing you back, because you totally didn’t give me a chance—?”

“No, I…” Oliver broke off with a nervous little laugh, his eyes still avoiding hers.  “No.  Felicity…do remember what you said?”

Felicity didn’t.   Not really.  The images post flashback were always crystal clear, what she said or did…not so much.

Oliver cleared his throat and Felicity wracked her brain to try and figure out what she could possibly have said that was causing him so much angst.

Blowing out a breath, Oliver said, “You said, ‘the baby.’ Followed by a string of ‘no’s.”

Her stomach dropped and her breath hissed.  Felicity felt as if someone had just kicked her in the gut.  “No…I…no, I didn’t realize…”   _Lord_ , what must Oliver have been thinking.  Her eyes burned just imagining…  “Did you…did you think that I lost a baby after Tikal?”

Oliver laughed.  An odd, watery sort of laugh, which sounded so much like he wanted to cry that it made Felicity want to cry as well.  “No.  No,  _that_  didn’t even occur to me.  It was much dumber…I uh…for a moment there, I thought you  _were_  pregnant.”

Okay, Felicity took it back.   _That_  was a kick to the gut.  “ _What_?!”  Bile rose into her throat.

“Yeah.  Now you see why I didn’t want to bring it up?”  Oliver looked honestly regretful of the fact as his entire demeanor changed.  He was now focused entirely on comforting her, his hands rubbing her arms and shoulders.  “It was a ridiculous thought, but it sounded like you were afraid of losing—”

“And,  _obviously_ , if I was pregnant it couldn’t be yours?” Felicity interpreted, because she imagined that was what would have bothered Oliver most at that time, since he hadn’t known it was impossible…no, she couldn’t go down that rabbit hole right then.  It wouldn’t help either of them.  

“Yup.”  And the way Oliver popped that ‘p’ showed her that was exactly what had been tormenting him.  The idea Felicity had moved on and (hypothetically) could have been carrying another man’s child.  “Obviously, in light of everything I know now, it seems extra moronic—”

“No,” Felicity corrected, shaking her head, because stupid it was not.  This, like everything else, was just a result of the tangled web of secrets she had created.  “How were you to know it was impossible?”  Despite her best efforts, the words sent a little curl of grief spiraling through her.  “It’s just…”  

Was this the time for Felicity to confess that there had been no one in five years?  Like, literally _no one_.  Oliver deserved to know.

“It was a dumb idea before I knew,” Oliver argued.  “It was just my jealousy that got the idea stuck in my head. They would have never allowed a pregnant woman on a mission like this.”

Oliver greatly underestimated ARGUS’ desire to have her on this mission.  But Felicity didn’t say that.  She chose to focus on him confessing how jealous he had been because that made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.  It was by far the preferred emotion.

“And I knew you weren’t seeing anyone,” Oliver confessed in a rush.  “I checked.  Called in a few favors.”  Now he was blushing and it was adorable.  “I didn’t, you know, want to be blindsided.”

Now Felicity knew she was grinning like a fool and she said, “Of course,” because she was feeling magnanimous.  

“So…I knew it was highly unlikely, but the thought kept, popping up, you know?” Oliver kept talking and Felicity was starting to realize just how much this had been bothering him, how much he needed to get it out.  “What if you were in a  _secret_  relationship?  It could be early in the pregnancy.  I got some intel on this young forensic guy that you seemed to spend a lot of time with.  How hard could it be to keep a secret like that in the CAVE?”

“Not too hard,” Felicity chuckled, “given that Caitlin has been secretly dating that  _exact_  forensic guy for months.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed.  That one clearly caught him off guard.  “Our Caitlin?  And that Barry guy—?”

“Barry Allen.  Yup.” Felicity nodded.  She still couldn’t believe she hadn’t known.  “Though she had  _better_  not be pregnant because if she accepted this mission and didn’t tell me, I’m going to be so pissed—”

Oliver cut her off with a string of relieved laughter.  He couldn’t possibly  _still_  be thinking there had been someone waiting for her in the CAVE?  Not after everything they had said and done in the last 24 hours?

But Oliver was smiling now, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe how foolish he had been.  “So…when you said ‘baby’ in the Temple?”

Felicity shrugged.  She, honestly, didn’t know why she said it.  She didn’t  _remember_  saying it.  “I was having a flashback of Tikal.  I assume it’s the same thing we talked about before.  It felt like I’d lost a child—”

“ _God_.” Oliver’s face fell.  “I’m sorry, I should have quit while I was ahead, not brought up—”

“Shh…no,” Felicity interrupted, putting a finger to his lips.  “As you said, this is your loss too.”  And, damn, if  _that_  didn’t choke her up a little.  “You can  _always_  bring it up.”  She was strangely okay with it.  “Not talking about it brought me nothing but trouble.  I think I’d like to try the opposite for a bit.”  Then…she grinned, feeling irrationally happy despite the topic.  This honestly thing was like a drug.  “Besides, I like the idea of you being jealous of some faceless guy.  It’s cute.”

“He wasn’t faceless,” Oliver grumbled.  His eyes were still smiling though.

Felicity laughed, reaching up to twine her arms around Oliver’s neck.  “Well, now you’ll know what he looks like when Cait brings him to…” Oh, wait.  Was this okay?  “I’m sorry.  Does that bother you?  Because of Ronnie?”

“No.” Oliver was shaking his head before the words fully left his mouth.  “I’m thrilled for Cait.  Ronnie wouldn’t want her to be alone forever.”  He wound his arms around Felicity’s waist and pulled her flush with his body.  “The idea of  _you_ , on the other hand, having another man’s baby—”

Felicity cut off his growl with a laughing, “Never gonna a happen.”

Then they both seemed to realize how true that was at the same time and the smiles left their faces.  

No.  Nope.  She had already decided this. And if Felicity wasn’t going down the rabbit hole, she wasn’t letting Oliver either.  

Felicity put on her Sunshine face, grinning up at Oliver.  “Besides, the whole thing makes me feel better about your Russian spy wife.”

It worked.  Oliver’s eye lit up.  “My Russian spy wife?”

Felicity nodded.   _Very_  seriously.  “Uh huh.  The one I made up on the plane to Cancun.”  That made Oliver laugh.  Deep and rich.   God, she had missed that sound.  “She was quite beautiful and very sophisticated and I  _hated_  her.”

Grinning ear to ear, Oliver brought the back of his hand up to Felicity’s cheek and—

“Oliver, are you still holding the moonstone?” The mere idea of it sent prickles of anxiety skittering over her skin.

Oliver looked down at the stone in his hand, as if he had forgotten it was there.  The stone that had just  _mind whammed_  her.  What was he  _thinking_!  

“I guess I am.”

Butterflies started to do a tap dance in her stomach and Felicity grabbed Oliver’s hand, turning it over… _very_  careful not to touch the cursed thing.  “Are you okay?  You didn’t feel…weird?  Floaty?  Otherworldly-ish?”

Felicity got a half-smile, presumably from her eccentric descriptions, but Oliver seemed to be considering it, running his thumb over the pattern on the stone, which kind of made her want to snatch it away from him.  

Oliver didn’t look worried in the slightest.  But maybe the stone was _making_ him not worried and…

Finally, Oliver shook his head.  “No, I don’t think I feel anything different.”

“Not high or—”

“Well, I am unusually happy, but I’m pretty sure that’s just you.”

Well… _damn_.  This man and his right answers.

Felicity grabbed his face and pressed a kiss to his lips.  If Oliver was going to be this wonderful, how was she to cope?  “You are too perfect to be real, do you know that?  No one has any idea.”

Oliver gave her that melty love-sick look again.  God, Felicity loved that look.  “Because it’s only for you, Sunshine.”  He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose.  Because, apparently, he needed to emphasize just how much of a sap he could be. “But really, I don’t think the stone is affecting me at all.  And I didn’t feel anything back in Tikal when I took it off Caiden’s wife.”

“Cadmeal,” Felicity corrected, but that  _was_  an excellent point.  “I don’t feel anything at the Temple of the Sun, either.”  At least, she didn’t  _think_  she did.  It _had_ felt warm. 

Holding up the moonstone, Oliver turned it over in his fingers.  “Maybe it’s a combination of things.  Like  _you_  had to touch it.   Or it had to be In the antechamber.  Or in the presence of your reincarnation of the sun god.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, just barely restraining herself from smacking Oliver.  “Kinich Ahau is _not_ the reincarnation of the sun god.”

Oliver gave her a pointed look, eyebrows raised.

“He’s  _not_!” Felicity insisted.  There would have to be such things as  _sun gods_  for there to be reincarnations of them.

Oliver just shrugged.  His silent ‘if you say so’ clear as day.  

“Regardless…” Oliver captured Felicity’s hand and turned it palm up.

“What are you doing?” Felicity squeaking, instantly tense.

But Oliver was completely nonchalant.  “Seeing if it still works for you.”

Felicity curled up her hand and yanked it back, not out of his grip, but away from the stone.  “No, thank you.  I don’t want to be whammied by that thing  _again_.”

But Oliver just gave her a gentle smile, insisting, “All it did last time was give us the information that saved us from HIVE and _maybe_ kept that cat from eating us alive.”

Wrinkling her nose, Felicity frowned at the bright blue stone Oliver held suspended above her hand.  God _damnit_.  He had a point.

“If it still works, it could tell us how to get to Kin Cuudad.” Oliver’s voice could have been wheedling, but it was more matter of fact.

And, frak, Oliver was right.  They needed all the help they could get.  Letting out a little whimper, Felicity muttered, “Fine.”  

Then she opened her palm and Oliver dropped it into her hand. Felicity felt the cool stone in her palm once again and…she really wasn’t sure she wanted to do this.  

“Just stay close,” Felicity murmured, her eyes glued to the stone as it was gonna implode or something.  Fraking hell.  “And, I dunno, knock it out of my hand if I go all exorcist or something.”

Oliver chuckled warmly, his hand moving to cup Felicity’s from below.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And, really, wasn’t that all Felicity had ever wanted?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My infinite thanks to my three wonderful Betas and friends **Ireland1733** , **Fairytalehearts** , and **imusuallyobsessed**.  Especially,  **Ireland1733** who has been pulling double duty lately with both fics and taking over my last edit so I can write more.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading (and kudoing and commenting ;-))
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
> (Emmilynestill on Tumblr and Twitter)
> 
>  


	21. Chapter 20:The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> For “Previously on...” chapter summaries to remind yourself what happened go [ **here**](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/167421453561/previously-on-to-sacrifice-the-sun) **.**
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found[ **here.**](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)

_September 18, 2016_  
_19:04_  
_The Tunnel_  
_Beneath Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

Felicity stood there, in the cold dark tunnel, with the moonstone cupped in her palm for a full minute, waiting.  She waited for it to start glowing that unearthly blue glow.  To start to feel that sense of confidence and belonging.  To have  _knowledge_  come to her.

Actually, Felicity waited a lot longer than a minute.

And…she felt… _absolutely_  nothing.  

Well, nothing but exhaustion.  

Felicity wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed or relieved.  Letting out a breath, she leaned her head on Oliver’s shoulder and closed her eyes.  To better concentrate.  Or not.  Either way, it was a very nice place to be.

But as one minute bled into five and then…who knew how long?  The events of the last twenty-four…hell _, seventy-two_  hours started to catch up with her and Felicity let out an involuntary yawn.

Chuckling, Oliver hugged her to him and dropped a kiss onto the top of Felicity’s head.  “Exciting stuff, huh?”

“Sorry,” Felicity murmured, trying in vain to stifle another yawn.  Was it her fault that standing here, in Oliver’s arms, she felt like she could finally relax?  Even if they  _were_  still in a life and death situation?  “I really don’t feel anything.”  

Though, to be truthful, she was fine with that.  Knowing what was at the other end of this tunnel would be nice and all, but Felicity didn’t particularly like the idea of a piece of jewelry messing with her brain.  

Oliver just hummed in response, rubbing her back and murmuring, “I want to try one last thing.”  

Shifting, but somehow managing to pull Felicity closer at the same time, Oliver pulled the glow ball out of his pocket and held it out toward the tunnel…the  _never-ending_  tunnel.  Wow, it just…it seemed to go on and on.  Infinitely.  And wasn’t  _that_  a frightening prospect?  

“What’s down there?” Oliver asked softly.

Tilting her head so that she could rub her cheek against Oliver’s shoulder, Felicity frowned.  Was this a  _trick_  question?  “Kin Cuudad,” she answered because… _duh_.  Where else would it lead?

“Is that your educated guess or do you  _know_  the tunnel leads to Kin Cuudad?”

As Oliver’s gentle words sunk in, Felicity’s heart skipped a beat, then sped up, exhaustion fading and alertness snapping back.

“I…” Felicity closed her eyes and examined the feeling in her gut.  She pushed aside her (healthy) scientific skepticism and listened to her instincts, her  _intuition_.  “I think I…I think I  _know.”_

Her eyes flew back open.  Just like before Tikal and when she first saw the Door and…the knowledge was just _there_.  Felicity had no idea where it came from, but it hadn’t been there before and now…frak, it was weird that she was so certain, wasn’t it?

“This tunnel was built for the Royal family.  To get in and out of Kin Cuudad in a crisis,” Felicity whispered and it might have been speculation.

But it wasn’t.  It really,  _really_  wasn’t.

Felicity looked up at Oliver, searching his eyes and hoping they would ground her.  She wasn’t sure if the feeling bubbling up in her belly was excitement or fear.  

Actually, she did.  

It was both.   _Definitely_  both.

Oliver smiled down at her, not looking nearly as conflicted as she felt.  But then,  _he_  wasn’t the one being whammied by magic.  Though if Felicity judged by the look in his eyes, the exhilaration and pride, she’d have thought it was a  _good thing_  to be spoken to by a shiny magic rock.

But Oliver’s confidence did help.  Made Felicity feel less like a freak who had entered a weird alternate reality.  It bolstered the excitement and calmed the fear.  Even if…it was impossible.

And still Felicity was certain.   As stupid as that sounded to her scientific and mathematics shaped mind.  God, would Cait and her CAVE team laugh at her?  Test her for some strange intoxication?  Or…would they be just as excited as she was by the discovery?

“I don’t know if it’s still there,” Felicity told Oliver, “but at  _one time_  this tunnel led to the City of the Sun.”

Oliver’s smile spread, his dimples coming out to play.  Wow, that was even more intoxicating than whatever was going on with this damn stone.  “Well, let’s go find out what’s left, shall we?”

As Felicity’s thoughts continued to spin, Oliver turned to gather their bags.  He stepped out of her arms and…in this cramped and narrow space there wasn’t very far for him to go, but she still felt colder as soon he let her go.  She was also struck by how  _very_  lucky they were that their most important gear was on  _this_  side of the wall.   

Swallowing, Felicity looked down at the moonstone in her palm, examining it.  It wasn’t glowing.  Did it need to glow to work?  Was this… _knowledge_  coming from the stone or…

Had it been inside her all along?

Okay, now  _that_  sounded even crazier.  If that was even possible.  Give her a few more minutes and Felicity would convince herself she was genuinely psychic.  

Though, now that she thought about it, the stone hadn’t glowed when she was having her mental conversation with jaguar (god, how was this her life?).  It had only done that when connected to the Door so, maybe, the glowing wasn’t all  _that_  important.  

It  _would_  be helpful if it did though, since Oliver had put the glow ball back in his pocket, leaving it dim and…well,  _creepy_  in there.  Light didn’t seem to carry normally in these tunnels.  Neither did sound.  It was almost as if the noise and lights were absorbed into the damp air as quickly as they were produced.

Yup,  _so_  creepy.

It did feel a little warm.  The moonstone.  Not like Felicity thought a stone should feel.  But maybe it was just absorbing the warm of her palm.  It was hard to tell.  Such an odd thing.  It wasn’t making her feel floaty and high this time, which was good but…it wasn’t like it spoke to her.  She didn’t hear voices in her head.  (Again, thank god!)  It just…somehow…

“Oliver,” Felicity whispered, her heart lodging itself in her throat.  “I…uh…” Her fist closed around the moonstone and…  “I think this might be the Gift after all.”

Oliver froze, her bag dangling from his hand as he turned back to look at her.  “ _Felicity_ …?”

“No.   _Wait_.”  Felicity shook her head, correcting herself because after the words emerged they…they didn’t  _feel_  right.  “No, that’s not quite it.”

Felicity closed her eyes again, because it…it was all so damn confusing.  The idea that this was the Gift didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel… _wrong_ either.  

Goddamn magic!  Why did everything have to be so…hidden and mysterious?  All riddle-y.  It couldn’t just be straight forward.  This was why Felicity preferred computers.  And math.  There was always an answer with math.  

“I…maybe, it’s  _part_  of the Gift?”  Felicity rolled the stone around her palm, feeling the intricate pattern.  “This…” She held it out, between her thumb and forefinger.  “This fits inside the Sun Medallion.”  

A medallion she had never seen before.  

Yup, this was all  _so_  fraking insane.  That didn’t make Felicity any less sure, though.

“Together they are…” Felicity refused to say magical.  On principle.  “A powerful…a totem or something.”  

Felicity was mincing words and she knew it.  Wasn’t a totem by definition magic?  She didn’t even know any more.

When Felicity opened her eyes, Oliver was right there, next to her again.  He reached up to cup the hand holding the moonstone.  “The Gift.”  

His voice was reverent.  In a way Felicity had never heard him talk about any nonliving thing.   _Ever_.  Either Oliver had found spirituality in Russia or this whole Mayan thing was affecting him strangely too.

“Yeah…” Felicity murmured, trailing off, tipping her head to the side and examining the stone.  “Maybe.”  Why didn’t that sound quite right?  “I don’t think they  _called_  it the Gift.”  But how would she know  _that_?  Maybe…

Her eyes flew to Oliver’s.  God, she wished he had the same reaction to the stone as she did.  It would really help to have another pair of eyes or…feelings…or whatever.  Also it would make Felicity feel less crazy.  Like when she said…  

“It’s almost as if this thing contains someone’s memories.”  

Now,  _that_  sounded nuts.  The tech didn’t exist that could truly replicate memories, how could they put it into a twenty-three-hundred-year-old rock?  

But, instead of looking at Felicity like she’d stepped off the cliff of sanity, Oliver looked eager.  “The Daughter of the Sun’s memories?”

Of  _course_ , his celebrity crush.  

“ _Oliver_ …” But then Felicity paused mid-scoff as…an incredible feeling of  _rightness_  came over her.  “Oh  _my_  god, I think you may be right!”

It was terrifying and amazing all at once.  Oliver laughed out loud, joy just  _radiating_  from him.  He grabbed Felicity around the waist and spun her.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled into his hair, her eyes prickling as she…just basked in his happiness.  

In that moment, Felicity couldn’t care less how crazy it sounded.  How crazy it  _was_.  She would happily live in crazy town forever if Oliver was with her.  And…this was the moment, the moment of sheer exhilaration that she had been waiting for since they had found the Door.

That had been thrilling, but this was…this was…

 _This_  was right.  

Even if  _nothing_  else in the world was,  _this_  was.

Oliver.  Felicity.  Here is this one… _insane_  moment in time was  _right_.

Felicity was dizzy by the time Oliver placed her back on her feet.  And the hard kiss he gave her before stepping back didn’t help.

“Let’s go find our city,” Oliver announced, slinging both their bags over his shoulder.

Felicity looked down the long tunnel.  Down the secret underground path to Kin Cuudad.  She slipped the moonstone back in her pocket, snapping it securely shut.  It was amazing really.  This tunnel had stood, hidden for millennia, just below the surface of the jungle.  Frozen in time while the world kept spinning.  In a way, it made sense…

Oh…

Except…wait…

This time, Felicity was pretty sure the sinking feeling she had was  _not_  coming from the stone.  This was her brain putting the puzzle pieces together.  

 _Damn_  it.

“Oliver?  Do we have a compass?  The old-fashioned kind.  I’m not sure if I trust the watches down here.”  If light and sound didn’t carry…no way were they getting a GPS or satellite signal.  

“Of course.” He sounded almost insulted that Felicity might considered he wouldn’t.  Oliver pulled out one of those enormous pocket knives, the kind that screamed Wilderness Man and would have made her roll her eyes if it wasn’t so damn useful at the moment.

He adjusted it so the compass was on top and held it up to the tunnel, knowing exactly what Felicity wanted without her asking.   ‘Cause…he was Oliver.  

“It’s due west.”

Felicity’s head fell back and she groaned.  Yup.  Of  _course_ , it was.

“What?” And from the hesitant way he asked, Felicity knew that Oliver knew that…this wasn’t good.

“So, uh, ever since I got the info from Digg, back in the Cave, I thought that it was strange that the Door was in the middle of the jungle,” Felicity explained, shaking her head.  Should she have brought this up sooner?  Would it have even made a difference?   “If Kin Cuudad was in the Lacandon Rainforest, surely, someone would have found  _some_  sign before now.  It would be no different than Palenque and Tikal or—"

“Unless it was underground?” Oliver offered, his brow knotted.  He was trying his damnedest to catch up.

“But if it was  _under_  the rainforest…”  That didn’t make sense either and Felicity could feel the weight of it settle on her shoulders.  “Well, the chances are it wouldn’t be in a cavern, chances are that it would be  _completely_  buried.  There wouldn’t be much to find.  Not by us, anyway.   We’d need an excavation team to get through a mile of dirt and rock, not an ARGUS Spec Ops team—”

Oliver shook his head, looking almost… _horrified_  by what Felicity was saying.  Beyond disappointed.  “Are you saying you think it’s  _gone_?”  

“No…no, I…” Felicity wasn’t doing a very good job of getting to the point here.  She was making things seem worse than they were.  Probably. “So, a lot of the experts placed Kin Cuudad somewhere at the base of the Sierra Madre Mountain Range.  They think El Chichon, the volcano, was probably what caused its downfall.”  

“What do  _you_  think?” Oliver interrupted, because he seemed to think that was all that mattered.  His faith was rather humbling sometimes.

Gulping, Felicity answered the best she could, “ _I_  think it makes more sense that Kin Cuudad is  _there_ , than in the Jungle.  It’s more easily hidden, protected.  And if it  _was_ there, then there’s a better chance something survived.  What with the caves and the land formations—”

“So…” Oliver’s eyes widened and she could see the pieces finally click together in his head as his murmured, “Just how far west  _is_  the Sierra Madre?”

Felicity swallowed.  “Twenty-five miles.”

Oliver’s jaw dropped.  “That’s a ten-hour walk in these conditions.   _Minimum_.”  

Yup and Felicity could feel the exhaustion kicking in just thinking about it.  No doubt if they were fresh, they could do it in less.  Well, at least Oliver could but…

“Do you really think the Mayans built a 25 _-mile_  tunnel?”

Wrinkling her nose, Felicity said in a small voice, “They were tenacious?”  

Because Felicity  _absolutely_  thought they built a twenty-five-mile tunnel.  Even though it was mind bending to even consider the work it would have taken to do so.   _By hand_.  But considering the pyramids they had built…

Sighing, Oliver stopped to readjust the bags.  He crisscrossed his duffle over his quiver on his back.  His chest was still deliciously naked, making him look a little bit like Tarzan.   

But instead of re-exploring that chest, after her very loooong drought, Felicity had a twenty-five mile underground hike to take.  Frak her life.

“Well, let’s see how much ground we can cover before you collapse from exhaustion.”  Oliver’s tone was teasing, but…they both knew it wasn’t a joke.

“I’m fine,” Felicity protested, frowning and trying to swallow the yawn that immediately tried to brand her a liar.  Her body was always betraying her like that.  “And I can carry my own bag,” she insisted.

“I know you can.  You’re just not going to.”  Oliver gave her a cocky smile and held out his hand.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity took it.  It really wasn’t worth arguing about.  “Are you going to be even  _more_  protective now?”

Oliver leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple.  “Nope.”

Felicity just scoffed, not believing it for a moment.

“But that’s only because I don’t think I could get any  _more_  protective,” Oliver drawled, making Felicity laugh.   _That_  she believed.  “Come on.  Let’s get you to your Lost City, my little Sun Queen.”

 

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

_September 18, 2016_  
_22:10_  
_The Tunnel_  
_Beneath Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

“You know we can stop at any point to rest.”

At Oliver’s words, Felicity felt another wave of pure exhaustion wash over her.  But they had only been walking three hours.  They hadn’t even made it halfway.  Not even close.  It wasn’t even midnight, for frak’s sake.  A proper ARGUS Agent should be able to go _days_ without sleeping.

“It's fine,” Felicity mumbled.

Then she wrinkled her nose when she realized that she sounded as delirious as she felt, which meant that Felicity was fooling precisely no one.  This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument tonight and if she had her way it wouldn’t be their last.

Oliver had a very different goal.  He squeezed her hand, whispering against her ear, “That would be a whole lot more convincing if your eyes weren’t closed.”

Felicity immediately snapped them back open, her back straightening, trying not to slump.  “My eyes are open.” Wasn’t the most intelligent defense, but it was all she had at the moment.

Over next to her, Oliver looked annoyingly awake despite having been through all the same ups and downs as she had.  All the same battles, physical  _and_  emotional.  She would be irritated by it if he wasn’t looking down at her with the absolute  _sweetest_  expression on his face.  All Felicity wanted to do curl up in his arms and sleep for a week.  

Well, between bouts of mind-numbing sex. It was the evilest irony that just as Felicity got Oliver back in her life, saving the word kept getting in the way of celebrating.  

“Sunshine, you’re doing the commuter nod.  It’s impressive that your legs are still moving.”

Well, at least, she was impressing someone because she was disappointing the hell out of herself.  Felicity hated when she felt like she was a burden, like she wasn’t pulling her weight.  “I can go a little longer.  We should get as much distance between us and…” She broke off in a yawn… _goddamn_  it!  “…HIVE as we can.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and let go of her hand.  Which, kinda sorta made Felicity panic a tiny bit.  Because, frak, she was never going to be able to stay upright without his help!  

But then Oliver curled his arm around her waist and pulled her closer so that he was baring even more of her weight.  Which was probably what he had intended in the first place, which made Felicity feel dumb and also…it felt so good.  She hummed and burrowed into his shoulder.

Oliver chuckled again and, this time, Felicity gave him a pass.  It didn’t hurt his cause the way he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.  “When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”

That was an excellent question and Felicity was very tempted to say five years, three months, and fourteen days.  It would be pretty damn truthful.  But not, she thought, the answer Oliver was looking for.

“I slept the entire drive from the coast to Palenque.”  Felicity even though those hours were pretty restful.  

Oliver scoffed.  “That does  _not_  count as a good night’s sleep.”

Since when was Oliver the sleep police?  If there was anyone  _less_  qualified to take on that roll Felicity didn’t know who.  

Felicity threw Oliver an incredulous expression.  “Then you aren’t going to like how I spent the last five years,” she joked.  “Because four hours caught at my desk or in a cot in the lab…not only routine, but considered pretty good.”  Occasionally, she would stumble off to the apartment she shared with Cait and sleep for 18 hours, but that wasn’t all that often.

But Felicity’s joke fell flat.  When he didn’t respond, she glanced up to see Oliver looking down at her with thundercloud face.  

“What?” Felicity grumbled, starting to feel defensive.  “You’re one to talk.   I don’t believe for one minute you were getting a solid eight hours a night working for the Bratva.”

But Oliver just brushed her argument off by saying, “I don’t need as much sleep as you and you know it.”

And that…was as true as it was unfair.  Like the perfect agent he was, Oliver could go three days without sleep before he even seemed to feel it, never-mind have it affect his performance.  He could actually  _will_  himself awake.  But what was more, he could will himself _asleep_.  

Oliver could sleep anywhere.  Anytime.  And it was  _actually_  restful. So Felicity knew he had gotten decent sleep in the chamber even if their stress levels had been sky-high.  While she was tossing and turning, he was  _out_.  Digg and Sara could do the same.  Their CO called it battle sleep.

It was annoying.  Even if the ability had saved their asses more than once.

Felicity was still grumbling over the unfairness of it all, while trying to come up with a decent argument when she…tripped.

Head over ass, feet a tangled mess, would have fallen flat on her face if Oliver hadn’t had an arm banded around her waist,  _tripped_.  

Frak!

“Whoa!” Oliver pulled her back upright.  “Okay, now we’re _really_  stopping _._   Your legs aren’t even working.”

“No, I…” Felicity pulled out of Oliver’s arms, putting an arm out to lean against the wall as she searched for… _something_.  “That wasn’t just my legs giving out.  I tripped  _over_  something.”

She wasn’t just making excuses.  Felicity would swear she’d caught her foot on something and was about to ask for the glow ball when she found what she was looking for.   She fell to her knees and scooped it up.  Until this point, there had been nothing in this tunnel but rock and dirt but this…

“Oh my god,” Felicity whispered.  Tears immediately flooded her eyes as a wave of grief came over her.  Her hand fluttered up and covered her mouth.

“What is it?”  Oliver murmured, crouching next to her.

Felicity fumbled a little as she held up her treasure.  “It’s a…um...”  The words got stuck in her throat.  She was completely choked up just looking at it.  Which  _had_  to be a gross overreaction, because it was just…

It was a child’s toy.  

An ancient Mayan carving, god knows how old, of a jaguar on wheels.  Felicity had seen something similar in a museum once and had been fascinated.  But this one…for some reason it made her want to weep.

“Okay.  We are  _definitely_  stopping,” Oliver announced, dropping their bags against the wall, across from her.  His thumb came up to capture a tear that Felicity hadn’t managed to keep from falling.  “I know it’s a creepy looking—”

“It’s not  _creepy_ ,” Felicity defended, her voice high and squeaky, even though she knew Oliver was teasing.  Trying to lighten the mood.  But…she hugged the poor maligned toy to her, collapsing to the floor, to lean against the wall.  “It’s gorgeous.”

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up and he gave her an amused and indulgent smile.  “I realize you are inordinately fond of jaguars but—”

“It’s a  _toy_ ,” Felicity burst out, her voice cracking.  And there shouldn’t be a toy in this dark dismal place.  It didn’t belong here.  “There was a child in this tunnel and he…or she…” Though for some reason Felicity felt certain it was a ‘he.’ “…dropped this toy and he probably  _loved_  this toy and missed it and do you think he was running from someone?  Oh god, do you think he’s okay?  Do you think he…do you think he  _died_?” 

 “Felicity, baby,” Oliver stroked her cheek softly and she could tell he was trying not to smile, which…kinda annoying.  She was well aware that she was becoming increasingly hysterical and had no idea why or how to stop it.  “Given that thing is a couple of  _thousand_  years old, I’m pretty certain that the child who owned it is dead.”

Her automatic response was to whack him, but then Felicity processed what Oliver said and let out a chuckle.  She was being ridiculous.   _Beyond_ ridiculous.  

Felicity scrubbed her wet cheeks with her palms and admitted, to herself at least, that it probably  _was_  time to rest if she was getting this emotional over a millennia old toy.  

“I guess I  _might_  be…deliriously exhausted,” Felicity finally admitted, sighing.

Oliver’s smile faded as he rubbed Felicity’s back with soothing circles.  “Does this happen a lot?  When you…see kids’ toys and stuff?”

Felicity winced, because she hadn’t even…she looked up into Oliver’s eyes, seeing worry, but sadness too.  

“No.  _No_.”  The last thing Felicity wanted to do was add emotional baggage to Oliver that wasn’t even there.  “It’s just pregnant people that trigger me.  Kids and babies are fine.”  She assumed, anyway.  “Well, it’s not like I’ve had a lot of exposure to either in the CAVE so…” Damn, she wasn’t helping.  “I don’t think that’s it.”

Yup, definitely not helping.

Oliver’s eyes were still so sad and so empathetic and, well, that wasn’t going to dry up Felicity’s tears.  He cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips.  And  _that_  would have helped, if he hadn’t kept it so short.

“It’s just that…” Felicity shook her head, for some reason, feeling the need to explain.   But how did one explain something that was so irrational?  She lifted the toy to look at it more closely.  “I don’t know.  The little boy that it belonged to, what was he doing in this never-ending tunnel?  Was he trying to escape someone or something?  Was he running for his life when he dropped it?  This must have been precious to him.  He wouldn’t have left it behind on purpose.  What if he never got out?  What if he died trapped…?”  

Felicity’s voice broke and she pressed a hand over her mouth as a wave of grief passed over her.  Maybe children were a trigger after all.  That and her runaway imagination.

“Hey, if that were true, we would have seen a skeleton or something,” Oliver argued, again the rational one.  And he was treating Felicity like this was a reasonable thing to be upset over.  Not acting like she was silly or crazy.  Which she probably was. “So far there’s been nothing.”

“So far,” Felicity repeated, fighting another sob as the thought of what else they might find in this tunnel became overwhelming.  

It was unrealistic to think they wouldn’t  _eventually_  find bones.  She’d seen the movies.   _Indiana Jones_ ,  _The Mummy_ , _Goonies_ …there were  _always_  skeletons in tunnels like this.  All Felicity could pray for was none of them were the tiny bones of a child.

But even that was crazy talk.  As Oliver had said, this toy was  _thousands_  of years old.  If they died at six or seventy-six, the owner of this toy was dead.  Why did it matter so much to Felicity where and when?

Please, let it be seventy-six.   _Please_.

Oliver put a finger under her chin and tilted it up so she was forced to meet his eyes.  “Felicity, _sweetheart_ , as far as we know the child that owned this lived a full life.  As far as we know this could belong to your King Caiden—”

“Cadmeal,” Felicity corrected, again, with a watery laugh, grabbing Oliver’s hands and fighting the odd desire to beam at him and cry at the same time.  

“Right…King Cadmeal.  He was the Prince of Kin Cuudad, right?”  Oliver asked and Felicity nodded.  He was so sexy when he remembered what she told him.  Even if he  _did_  insist on Americanizing the Mayan names.  “And you said royalty used this tunnel, right?  And he wound up founding Palenque and living a long life.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, that makes sense.”  Felicity nodded, clinging to his words like a lifeline.   She glanced at the toy now sitting in her lap.  She felt better just thinking about Oliver’s theory.

Dropping another kiss on her temple, Oliver leaned back and started to unbuckle his quiver.  “Come on, let’s try to rest up a little.”  He placed his quiver on his duffle, up against the wall, before staring at the rough stone with a frown.  “I think I’m going to regret not grabbing my shirt.”

As much as she loved the Tarzan look, Oliver’s back was going to get pretty scrapped up trying to lie against that stone for any length of time.  Luckily, that wasn’t going to be an issue.  

Smiling, Felicity reached into her bag, glad to be able to do something for Oliver.  They’d only been back together for a few hours and, in that time, he’d done most of the care-taking.  

“As much as I enjoy the view…” Felicity handed Oliver the shirt she’d grabbed off the clothesline and stuffed in her bag.   Oliver paused, a wave of emotion cascading over his face and…it was her turn to reach over and cup his cheek, asking gently, “What is it?”

Swallowing, Oliver shook his head, looking embarrassed.  “I just…it’s just been a long time since…”

“Anyone took care of  _you_?” Felicity supplied, taking pity on him.  It was contrary to the ARGUS handbook to admit these things.

Oliver shrugged, his eyes finding a particularly interesting rock on the ground.  He broke her heart.  Felicity cleared her throat, urging his chin up so she could capture his lips. She meant for it to be sweet and slow, and maybe it was, but there was a surprising amount of desperation in it.  From both of them.  It had been too long.  

They might have shared dozens of kisses over the last few hours, but it didn’t feel like they would ever be able to make up for all the ones that had been lost.

She wasn’t sure whose lips parted first, but soon Felicity was moaning, shifting fully into Oliver’s arms, getting lost in the slow, deep slide of tongue on tongue.  She may have been too tired for hard and fast, but…slow, sensual, and emotional she could definitely do.  Oh and loving, never too tired for that.

Oliver eased out of the kiss, rubbing his nose against hers, then affectionately nudging her glasses and it was so… _them_ , like the last five years had never happened, it made Felicity want to cry.  

Or jump him.  

If only she had the energy.  Felicity had the will…oh,  _yes_ , she had the will.  Now, if Oliver would provide a little of that delicious muscle and never-ending energy, maybe they would have a way.  

Oliver gave her the sweetest smile.  His dimples were always so distracting.   Tired as she was, Felicity found herself just staring, her brain all soft and fuzzy.

And in her distracted state Felicity didn’t realize Oliver was pulling on his shirt until it was too late.  It kinda made her want to pout, which made  _actually_  her pout because she was way too tired for any sort of impulse control.  Why on  _Earth_  had she brought his shirt with them?

Oliver settled himself on the floor, his back to the wall and tugged her between his legs.  He pulled off her glasses and carefully placed them a top of his quiver, but then, instead of returning to the kisses (which was what Felicity was hoping for) he captured the hand that still held the jaguar toy and picked it up to examine himself.

Ummm…they had been  _kissing,_  here?

“I thought the Mayans hadn’t invented the wheel,” Oliver mused, tapping the wheels so they spun on their wobbly (and very  _old_ ) axis.  

Felicity leaned into Oliver and tried to rub a sensual circle on his chest…though she probably only managed a tired pat.  “They…”  And there came the yawn.  Dammit.  “They only used wheels for toys like this.”

Nuzzling her face against Oliver’s chest, she felt her eyelids grow heavy.  Well,  _heavier_.  That was okay though.  Heavy eyelids were sexy, right?  How come his muscles could be so hard and yet so soft and comfy?  She knew there was very logical medical reason, but at the moment it really seemed like a paradox.  Or magic.  Yup, the bestest magic.

“They used wheels for toys, but not for, say…wagons?  Isn’t that kinda dumb?”

As much as Felicity adored have academic discussions with him, she really didn’t understand why Oliver was so interested in this right now.   

They were alone.

Safe… _ish_.

They’d stopped to ‘rest.’

And they hadn’t had sex in 5  _million years_.  

Yet Felicity found herself explaining, “Wagons aren’t super useful in the mountains and jungles.  Especially when you don’t have beasts of burden.  Monkeys and jaguars…not so apt to wear a harness.”

Oliver chuckled and Felicity enjoyed the warm sound and the way it rumbled through his chest and caressed her cheek.  It kinda made her hum.  “Hmmm.”  Yup, just like that.

Pulling her closer, Oliver completely enveloped Felicity between his legs, so her entire side as pressed up against his, regretfully, clothed torso.  “So, you’re saying they invented the wheel, but the most useful thing they could come up with using it for was toys?”

“Pretty much.”  Felicity gave up the battle with her eyelids and nestled her head under his chin, loving the way his arms came up to surround her.  She felt like if she pulled her knees to her chest he could surround her completely.  It just felt so… _safe_.  And warm.  And…mmmm Oliver.

Felicity burrowed her nose into his chest, loving his smell.  She had really missed his smell.  It was one of the things she had missed most, actually.  She’d thought maybe one of her issues sleeping was not being surrounded by the musky scent.  God, she hoped she could fall asleep to this smell for the rest of her life.

Tipping up her chin, Felicity rubbed her nose against his neck and through his soft stubble.  Oliver had the softest stubble.  She supposed it was because he never shaved it all off and that was just perfect too.  

She trailed kissed along the underside of his jaw and luxuriated in the soft, low moan that came reverberating out.   It gave her enough momentum to move her sleepy hands, one settling to draw lazy circles on the small of his back, the other sneaking under his shirt to trace the ridges of his abs.

“Mmm…so nice….”

Did she say that?  Or Oliver?  Felicity couldn’t really tell.

But then Oliver chuckled, so it seemed that she had.  “Felicity, baby,” his voice had that low and raspy quality that felt like warm honey running over her skin.  “You need to sleep.”

That was very sweet of him but really not necessary.  “Sleep later,” she murmured against his throat before sucking the closest patch into her mouth.  It had been a whole lot longer than five years since she’d had the desire the give or receive hickeys but…hmmm…sounded nice at the moment.

Oliver’s hand fell onto if hers, stopping Felicity’s exploration.  “I think we need to do sleep  _first_.”

What?   _Why_?

Felicity pouted. Though she wasn’t sure Oliver could see, because pulling away from the cocoon thing they had going on would require  _way_  too much energy.  She really didn’t see why this couldn’t happen.  Oliver just need to take a little more initiative.

Wiggling her fingers out from under his, Felicity trailed them up his chest, wheedling, “But…I don’t want you to be grouchy and you said the  _not_ -sex was making you grouchy so….”

Oliver burst out laughing and Felicity wondered if she should be insulted and the exhaustion and the Oliver-is-wonderful-we-just-got-back-together-high was keeping her from feeling it.    

Hugging her closer, he pressed a long hard kiss to her crown, murmuring, “I love you.”  Clearly Oliver was just trying to butter her up.  Felicity wasn’t sure for what though.   “I am not making love to you for the first time in five years, three months and…”

“Fourteen days,” Felicity helpfully supplied and, goodness gracious, was that her voice that sounded all…slurry?

“Fourteen days,” Oliver repeated and Felicity could hear the amusement in his voice, “when you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

“Mmmm…I have faith in your ability to wake me up.”  Felicity tried her best to move against him in a suggestive manner.  She wasn’t sure it worked.

Oliver tipped up Felicity’s chin and gave her a slow and sensual kiss that was just starting to get good when…

“We have all the time in the world.”  He dropped a kiss on her nose and then guided Felicity back to his chest.  “Now… _go_  to  _sleep_.”

“Mmmeh…but UST,” Felicity whined.  Though she was too warm and content to pull away again.

Oliver’s chuckle rumbled beneath her cheek.  “Sunshine, as soon as you said you still loved me, it went from unbearable sexual tension to delicious anticipation.”

“ _Delirious_  anticipation is more like it,” Felicity grumbled, but his words and his answering laughter was making her feel all soft and cozy and maybe it made her chuckle as well.   “You are a closet sap, sir.”

“Shhh.  Don’t tell.”  His hands were now stroking a hypnotic pattern down her spine. “Sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine.  I’ll keep watch.”

Well, that didn’t sound fair at all.  “Wake me in an hour.”

Oliver scoffed and if Felicity had the strength to open her eyes she would totally be rolling them right now.  “I’m serious.  Just a little cat nap and then we’ll keep going.”

“Just pretend we’re in bed back at the Safe House, okay?” Oliver said and that wasn’t a real answer, but his rich voice lulled her sleepy brain complacency.  “Or, better yet, a hotel.  Where we don’t know  _anyone_.  The kind with fluffy white pillows and a matching down comforter.”

“Mmm….” Felicity could imagine being tangled up with Oliver under one of those.  “That’s lovely.”

“I’m going to take you to the best hotel in Cancun and keep you naked for a week…”

For the first time on years, Felicity drifted off to sleep smiling.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Note:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> The only Mayan artifact found with wheels were toys.  Before that it was assumed that the Mayan’s had just never invented the wheel.  Now most scholars believe wheels were useless in this part of the world without beasts of burden to pull anything the wheels were attached to. 
> 
> I didn’t just include it because it was an interesting piece of history though.
> 
>  
> 
>  


	22. Chapter 21: The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a new “Previously on…” chapter summaries **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/173202741185/previously-on-to-sacrifice-the-sun-2018)**. (I managed to get all but the prologue under 250 words each).
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found **[here.](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)**

_September 19, 2016_  
_4:21_  
_The Tunnel_  
_Beneath Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_  
 

The ground shook.

There was a distant rumble.  Then the walls were falling in.  The stone…the carefully crafted wall of stone, each hand placed by a hundred Mayan men, slipped and fell free in an avalanche of rock and dirt and debris.

Felicity tried to find Oliver, her eyes darting around.  But it was too dark.

Pitch dark. 

All see could see was inky black.

But it was hot.  Like… _fire_ hot.   Felicity could feel it on her skin.   Against her face.  It was getting closer and closer, but...then…why couldn’t she _see_ it? 

How could Felicity possibly _feel_ fire, but _see_ only darkness?

And where was Curtis’ glow ball?  Certainly, Oliver wouldn’t have turned it off?  But if he hadn’t then…

That meant it had already been covered or crushed or…

Felicity felt like _she_ was being crushed.  That or _burned_ alive. 

_Where_ was Oliver?

He had been…Oliver _was_ right _here_.  Felicity had been _in his arms_.  She was sure of it.  She tried to scream for him, but nothing came out.

_Oliver_!

It resonated in Felicity’s head, but she couldn’t _speak_.  A sob stuck in her throat along with the words.  Her voice wouldn’t work.  Her mouth wouldn’t work.  Her…

She couldn’t _move_.  Felicity couldn’t move _anything_.  Not an arm or a finger even.  Oh god, she was trapped. 

Oh god, she was _trapped_. 

No…no, it was worse than that.  Felicity was _paralyzed_.  Completely unable to move.

Terror rippled through her, as bad as it had ever been, and Felicity fought against whatever invisible force was holding her down.  

Felicity fought and fought.  It might be futile, but she fought with _everything_ in her.  She _needed_ to find Oliver.  She refused to die until she did.

After everything, Felicity couldn’t…she _wouldn’t_ die without Oliver.

At least, he knew the truth now.  Felicity wouldn’t die with Oliver hating her.  He knew she loved him and she knew he loved her so….

No…no… _no_!  

She would _not_ die.  She would _not_ leave Oliver.  Not again.  Felicity had promised.   Forever and always.  She _promised_!

Oliver might already be dead but…

Please, _please_ , she’d do anything.  Just let him still be alive. 

Felicity needed to make sure Oliver was all right.  She needed to fight this.  To get to him.  To break through the burning, solidifying… _rock_ that was holding her prisoner, threatening to suffocate her and burn her alive all at once.

Felicity needed to find Oliver!

She needed…

But _still_ she couldn’t move.

Yet…

Somehow… _somehow_ , Felicity heard Oliver’s voice. 

It was far away.  Muffled.  A distance rumbling.  As if through a wall of rock.  Or a sarcophagus of stone. 

Felicity could make out the cadence of Oliver’s voice, but not the words.

She fought harder.  Felicity’s heart pounded.  Her lungs burned.

Then, all at once, Felicity burst through and was surprised when it didn’t come with a crash.

Her eyes snapped open and Felicity shot up, sitting up all jack-knife like, gasping for air.

Light poured in…

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration.  The light was dim, emanating from Oliver’s pocket.  But a stark contrast from what it had been before.

Felicity turned her head…surprisingly easily.  Whatever had been holding her down was gone and…

Oliver was here. 

Oh god.  Thank _god!_ He was right here. 

Only inches away.  Blurry, but alive and well and not covered in rock and debris or…hardening lava? 

The walls were still standing.  There was no fire.  It wasn’t even hot anymore.  In fact, there was a chill to the air. 

But no cave in.  No explosion.

Thank god.  Thank god.  Thank god.  Thank god.  _Thank god._

The words rang in Felicity’s head, ricocheting back and forth and overlapping each other and the sound of her pounding heart, as she struggled to control her breathing. 

Oliver was talking to her, but it was still muffled, almost as if her ears were clogged.  His hands…they were rubbing her shoulder and back and Felicity felt that.  Felt his thighs as they pressed against her.  Holding her together.

It helped bring her back to herself and Felicity was finally able to meet Oliver’s eyes.

Reality came back into focus and she realized it was just a dream.

A dream…

_God_ , Felicity had never had a dream so _real_.  All these years…all the nightmares…the horrible _terrible_ nightmares…nothing had ever felt as real as _that_.

When she was finally able to make out what Oliver was saying, Felicity realized he was just murmuring, “Hey, hey, it’s just a nightmare.  It’s okay,” over and over.

And Felicity almost laughed.  Half from relief because, thank the _heavens_ , it was _just_ a nightmare.  And half from…

_Frak_.  It really hadn’t felt like _just_ anything!

They were in much the same position they’d been in when she’d fallen asleep.  Except for Felicity now sitting up ramrod straight and all.   And, honestly…she could barely believe it.  How could so little have changed?   When…it felt like…like…

Like the world had _moved_.

Yet there Oliver was, calm and composed, his legs bracketing hers, a worried and compassionate look on his face. 

Not worried about their safety.  Worried about _her_.

“Just a nightmare,” Oliver repeated once more and this time Felicity managed to nod, finally accepting the truth of his words and willing her breathing to return to normal.

The problem was…it didn’t seem to be doing that.  Or maybe it started to but then the images from the nightmare came back…

No, not images.  There _were_ no images.  Just blackness.   What kind of crazy nightmare came with the sensation of fire and pressure, the smell of smoke and dust, the feelings of… _terror_ , but nothing else?

It had been the strangest, the scariest, the…

Felicity’s heart sped back up, racing _again_ , and she…she just didn’t seem to be able to get enough air. 

The tiny tunnel felt like it was getting smaller and smaller by the second.  Felicity gasped for air and pressed her hands to her chest but nothing seemed to allow her to catch her breath.

She knew what _this_ was.  It had been years since Felicity had woken in the middle of the night with a panic attack, but… _god_ , she had forgotten how horrible they were.

And Oliver, when Felicity was able to turn her blurry eyes on his _,_ _he_ seemed to be growing progressively more panicked himself.  She wanted to reassure him, tell him she was fine, but… _god_ , even if her body would cooperate and allow her to form the words it would be a _lie_.

“ _Felicity_?” He demanded, his voice somehow hard and shaky at the same time.  This was what a Oliver terrified sounded like and that did not help _at all_.  “What’s going on?  What do you need?”

Frak, she wished she knew.  Felicity was feeling too claustrophobic to even lean against Oliver.  Something that normally would be the most natural, most comforting thing in the world but right then…

Tears pricked her eyes.  Felicity thought she was done with this.  Was she _ever_ going to be done with this?  What was _wrong_ with her?

“Glasses,” Felicity finally managed to gasp, because it was something that might actually help.  She _hated_ not being able to see.   It always seemed to worsen the panic and right now she really wanted to see Oliver’s face and make sure he was okay and real and…

Oliver gently placed Felicity’s glasses back on her nose and his beautiful… _freaked out_ face came into focus. 

And the stone walls.  And the dirt and hard clay ground and the never-ending tunnel and…

Just when it seemed she was about to turn a corner, Felicity was thrown backwards again.

“Better?”

A sob welled up and Felicity shook her head.  She couldn’t even manage a ‘no.’  God, reality wasn’t much better than the nightmare.  Were they going to die in this tunnel?  Trapped in the darkness?  Never to be…

_Fuck_ this! 

Felicity couldn’t handle it anymore.  She just couldn’t.  Somehow, she managed to gasp, “Pills.  My pills.”

She couldn’t get out anything else, so she was so very glad when Oliver grabbed her bag and started to riffle through without any more instruction.  Felicity really hadn’t wanted to take Xanax while she was on a mission but… _anything_ was better than this. 

“Where the fuck…?” Oliver muttered under his breath, his hands grappling with her over-stuffed bag.  Felicity swore if she was capable she would have laughed, but maybe that was just the lack of oxygen talking. 

Well, until Oliver said, “Felicity, if you have another condition, I _need_ to know.  Heart or lung…”

Because _that_ wasn’t funny.  Felicity could hear how scared Oliver was under his irritable mutterings.

Felicity shook her head, feeling desperate to reassure him and pathetic for having such difficulty accomplishing it.  Tears tumbled over as she tried to speak and failed.  Oh god, she couldn’t allow Oliver to suffer like this

So as much as she wanted to give up, Felicity tried again and _finally_ succeeded in pushing something resembling words out, “No…just…panic…panic attack….”

Oliver’s eyes snapped to hers.  They were still concerned but were less…well, _panicked_.  Ironically.  “Like in the Temple?  After the explosion?”

All Felicity was able to manage was a half-shrug, half-nod (which she was almost proud of).  There was no way she was capable of describing the intricate details that differentiated a flashback from a panic attack right then.  Hell, in that moment, the difference couldn’t have mattered less.

After the explosion, Oliver’s kiss had been enough to pull Felicity out of her flashback.  _That_ thought at least was a pleasant one.

He spent another minute…second… _whatever_ …riffling through her bag before letting out a frustrated grunt and turning to Felicity.  Something flashed in Oliver’s too blue eyes and she thought maybe he was remembering the same thing.

Then Oliver lurched toward her, taking Felicity’s face between his palms and pressing his lips to hers.

So, yeah, there was a very good probability Oliver had the same thought.  Nice to know they were still on the same wavelength. 

Now whether or not this whole kiss-her-back-to-sanity was going to work _again_ , Felicity had no idea.  It seemed too easy.  Too good to be true.  But wasn’t it at least worth a shot?

Also, if it did work, they should really try a whole _sexual healing_ thing, because Felicity had a whole lot of mental issues they could have a lot of fun _healing._ Talk about a silver lining.

Clutching Oliver’s wrists, Felicity did her absolute best to think of nothing but the man in front of her.  The feel of his rough hands and soft stubble.  Of his lips and his taste…

Felicity really wanted this work.  For _so_ so many reasons.

It was a good thing Oliver was the easiest thing in the world to focus on.  And his lips…yeah…could focus on those _forever_.

But Felicity didn’t have forever.  Too soon, Oliver pulled back.  Not far, but enough to miss the feel of his lips on hers.  He rested his forehead against hers and it didn’t make her feel claustrophobic.  So that was good.

Really good, actually.  Felicity felt warm and safe, the absolute opposite of how she’d felt sixty seconds ago.  Though her heart was still going too fast and her head was swimming and her breath…

Oliver took one of Felicity’s hands and placed it on his chest, holding it there with his own and whispering, “Breathe with me.”

Felicity’s eyes burned.  She could feel Oliver’s breath puffing against her lips and, miraculously, the last of the panic started to drain away. 

Huh, look at that.  Felicity should have known Oliver was the cure.  Her cure.  It made that sexual healing idea look better and better. 

It was an inspiring idea and on impulse, Felicity lurched forward, capturing Oliver’s lips and, unlike his kiss, hers was… _desperate_.  And maybe a little wild.  

One hand still pressed against Oliver’s heart, Felicity’s free hand wound around the base of his skull, her fingers digging into his scalp, attempting to pull him even closer.  Something that was half growl-half whimper emerged from the back of his throat and for one blissful minute she lost herself completely in the pressure of his tongue and the heat of his mouth.

But soon…way _too_ soon, Oliver wrenched his lips from hers, gasping for breath.  That did give Felicity some satisfaction, even if she was far from ready to let him go.

Felicity was breathing heavily as well, but it no longer burned when she tried to bring air into her lungs, it flowed free and easy.  The relief at that alone was dizzying.

Oliver chuckled, his own relief very evident in the sound.  “What are you _doing_?  This can’t be helping you breathe.”

_Oh_ it was helping.  It surely was. 

“I’m kissing you back this time,” Felicity murmured.  It seemed the only appropriate response.  Or at least the most succinct response and, therefore, the one that would get Felicity back to the heling power of Oliver’s lips the fastest. 

But as Felicity leaned back in Oliver evaded her, pulling his head back, his eyebrows furrowing, a regretful smile falling over his face.  “I’m sorry, baby.  That wasn’t fair of me.  You were right, you didn’t have a chance to kiss me back in the temple.”

_Damn_.  Felicity had miscalculated that one.  When would she stop underestimated the power of Oliver Guilt?

Felicity shrugged, trying to show how over it she was.  It hadn’t been fair for him to be upset that she hadn’t kissed him back mid-flashback, but (for so many reasons) she really didn’t care.  It was water so far under the bridge it was on another continent by now. 

“I just don’t want there to be any doubt,” Felicity told him with just a bit sassily, to make sure Oliver knew she was ready to forget all this bad stuff, even if it was for only a little while.  And to remind herself… _and him_ that no matter where they were and what was happening outside these walls (or above this tunnel) they, her and Oliver, as a _couple_ were good.

Finally. 

After far too long.  They were _good_.  So, so good.

And that was just…too incredible to believe.  The one thing Felicity never thought she could ever have again.  The thing she had wanted more than she’d allowed herself to contemplate.

If that wasn’t something to be celebrated and appreciated, she didn’t know what was. 

So Felicity did the only logical thing.  She went in for another kiss.  Because not only was this an awesome distraction, it was going to take a lot of kisses for her brain to finally accept the… _realness_ of it.  Plus, _celebration_.

Besides, the physical symptoms of the panic attack were fading fast but as per usual, the anxiety lingered and Oliver’s touch, while it didn’t banish it completely, helped.  _Lord_ , it helped.

Oliver smiled into the kiss and he whispered, “There’s no doubt,” against her lips, “I promise.”  He wiped away the last of Felicity’s tears and stroked her face, setting his legs more securely around her hips. 

He was being the sweetest of the sweeties.  Though, clearly, he was still in Comfort Mode and hadn’t followed the enormous jump Felicity’s brain had taken to Celebration Sex Land.  Maybe she should explain the potential power of sexual healing?

But then Oliver’s face grew completely serious.  “Does this happen a lot?”

Damn it.  “Making out in an underground tunnel? That’s actually a first for me.”  Felicity tried for a mischievous grin but…Oliver wasn’t buying it for a second.  In fact, his frown deepened so…

Yeah, this wasn’t something Felicity was going to be able to brush off and forget.  It wasn’t something she should, even if her instincts told her to lock down and run.

 Letting out a deep breath, Felicity asked, “Nightmares?  Or the panic attacks?” And, still, her voice took on a sardonic tone, mocking herself, because apparently even if she didn’t run, she couldn’t fully escape the veil of humor she used to protect herself. 

“Both,” Oliver murmured, his eyes sad and solemn as they bore in to her.  He brushed away her attempts at humor.  He saw right through it.  Straight to the secrets of her soul and Felicity didn’t even think that was an exaggeration.

She swallowed.  God, Felicity _hated_ talking about this.  But she knew she couldn’t keep this from Oliver.  She wouldn’t.

“Not for a while.”  Was that the truth?  The urge to downplay her mental illness, to pretend it was entirely in the past, was strong.  “Well, not in a while _until recently_.  Unfortunately.  I mean…they happened a lot the first year or so after Tikal but…they went away.”  And that was true.  Mostly.  “There’s been a small… _resurgence_ with, you know, being in the field.”

Please, let that be enough.  Felicity really didn’t want to go into any more detail than that.  Not now.  Not stuck in a fraking hole, with broken comms and no idea what was on the other end of this tunnel.  Assuming there still _was_ another side to this tunnel. 

This was really not the best place to give a history of her struggle with PTSD and Depression over the last five years.  And that wasn’t even Felicity being avoidant.  Hello, triggers.   _Everywhere_.

Plus, it was true that the depression seemed to have resolved but…Felicity feared the PTSD would never fully go away.  Even _with_ Oliver and his sexual healing.

Though Felicity was so up for giving that treatment a full and extended trail.  Repeatedly.  On the risk-benefit continuum she saw only benefits.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the last thing on Oliver’s mind.  So much for him reading Felicity’s mind.  If he could, surely, he’d be smiling.  Or blushing.  Damn, that would be adorable.

But instead Oliver looked worried.  And maybe a little _fierce_ , like he wanted to go slay a dragon for her.  Too bad PTSD was harder to get rid of then dragons (especially given they were fiction).

“Was there a trigger this time?” Oliver asked, because his focus was oh-so-much better than Felicity’s.  Always.  And he was damn tenacious too.  “I mean, blowing up the tomb triggered the…”  He cut himself off, pressing his lips tightly together and shaking his head.  It was obvious he wanted to fix this for her.

And Felicity wished he could.  But even more than that, she just wanted to make the anxiety in his eyes go away.  “It was just a nightmare.”

Could that be a good enough?  Could Oliver just let it lie?  _Please_? 

But of course it wasn’t.  And he couldn’t.  Though he didn’t pressure her.  Oliver just kept looking at Felicity expectantly.  And when she didn’t give him whatever he was looking for, he took her hand and squeezed it, asking gently, “The nightmare triggered the panic attack?”

Felicity nodded, praying the questions would stop, knowing they wouldn’t.

“What was the nightmare about?”

Closing her eyes, Felicity managed to suppress a groan.  Her instincts told her to evade.  She didn’t want to think about that damn nightmare.  Not ever again. 

But this was Oliver.  Not only was Felicity not going to get away with it, the more rational part of her brain knew nothing could be gained by hiding this from him.

Sighing, Felicity confessed, “All I really remember is darkness and heat and feeling like I was being crushed.”  Though she remembered it _vividly_.  Too vividly.  “ _Maybe_ there was a cave in.  Maybe Damian Darhk blew up the Door or… _something_.”  But as she said it, it didn’t feel right.  “I couldn’t move or scream and I…I couldn’t find you,” her voice cracked and…

See, _this_ was why Felicity hadn’t wanted to talk about it.  The terror was coming back full-force, did either of them need that?

Oliver squeezed her hand again, his voice fierce as he promised, “Darhk isn’t going to do that.”

If only it was that easy.  Felicity shook her head, partially because she didn’t think Darhk was what caused whatever catastrophe had occurred in the dream and partially because…

“We don’t know that.  And we don’t know that the tunnel won’t collapse without Darhk’s interference.” Great, now that Felicity’s mind had started down all these… _wonderful_ paths a new wave of fear and terror started to build.   “We don’t know that we won’t walk 30 miles to find the exit has collapsed centuries ago and we’re stuck in here and—”

A hand landed on Felicity’s chest, gentle and comforting.  Not in a sexy way (which was most unfortunate), above her breast, steady and comforting.  “ _Breathe_ , Sunshine,” Oliver commanded.

It jarred Felicity into compliance.  But the tears were back (god _damn_ them) and she had no idea how to banish them.

“If this tunnel has stood for two and a half millennia years, it’s not going to collapse today,” Oliver told her, extremely rationally.  Now if only Felicity’s freaked out psyche would listen.  “Or this _week_ , just because we stepped foot in it.”

Unless, they had somehow triggered a disastrous event just by entering a forbidden tunnel.  Stuff like that always happen in Indiana Jones and Felicity really didn’t think she could out run an enormous boulder and… 

“But—”

Oliver cut Felicity off before she could get started, “And if we run into a collapsed part, we will turn around and go back the way we came.  We have the key, remember?  And the lock is on _our_ side.”

That _should_ comfort her.  It _should_.  It was a sound plan.  So why was the dread mounting? _Again_.

Frak.

Felicity grabbed her own knee, digging her nails in her skin.  “I just…it’s just it would so be my life that I _finally_ have something to live for and…” Oliver’s eyes got soft and he smiled.  It was distracting when he did that and Felicity didn’t if it made her want to kiss him or cry.  “What if we can’t get through the Door again?  What if it’s a one-way kinda thing?  What if we run out of water?  What if after everything, we die down here—?”

Oliver cut her off with a kiss. 

And…good choice.  Yay, for Oliver’s problem-solving skills.  Clearly they exceeded Felicity’s at the moment. 

“ _Then_ ” Oliver murmured firmly, “we…you know what?  I have every confidence we will get out of here, but if we don’t then…” He stopped, shaking his head, though oddly enough he was still smiling softly.  “Well, then I’d _rather_ spend my last few days down here, _with_ you, die _with you_ , than live a lifetime up _there_ without you.”

And Felicity…

Well, her jaw dropped.  Because, miraculously, that…it was enough to chase the panic away.  And _every_ _other_ thought she had. 

Nightmare?  What nightmare?  Felicity blinked up at Oliver, trying to figure…to _accept_ …

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Felicity breathed.  She was dumbfounded.  On one hand there was no part of her that wasn’t absolutely certain Oliver was telling the truth, yet…it was _a lot_ to wrap her head around.

It wasn’t an empty romantic cliché.  It was…that was wow.  _Wow_ was what it was.

Oliver smiled and she had never seen eyes more sincere.  “It’s not like I’m…I’m not…” Oliver sighed, looking self-conscious now.  “Sweetheart, I’m not _suicidal_ or anything.  In fact, I really _want_ to live, now more than ever, but I’ll take my chances down here, _with you,_ any day.” 

For a moment Felicity couldn’t find words.  She just stared at him.  Astounded.  She still didn’t understand how Oliver could feel that much for _her_.  Especially after everything.

“Hey, I don’t think we’re going to die down here,” Oliver reassured, completely misreading her silence, but Felicity did enjoy the way he cupped her cheek.  As always, it grounded her.  “We’re going to get out of this.  We’re _going_ to get to Kin Cuudad.”   

Finally, Felicity was able to smile, though there was no drying her eyes.  His confidence in her, in _them_ …it was like a drug.  “It’s not…it’s just…” She sighed.  Like a love struck fool.  “Sometimes you just say things that are so incredibly, _excessively_ romantic that I…I don’t even know what to say…”  Or how to breathe.

Oliver blushed.  _Hard_.  He turned beet red.  His teeth found his bottom lip and his eyes found the floor.

Could he _get_ any more adorable?

Felicity rested her forehead against his and cupped his nape.  “The most incredible part is I _actually_ believe you mean it—”

“Of _course_ , I mean it.” Oliver’s head snapped up.  The look he gave her was…insulted.  How dare she think to question his sincerity?  Lord, this man…

Shaking her head, Felicity said the only think she could, “How are you even real, Oliver Queen?  Huge. Gorgeous. Brilliant.”  He scoffed at that, but she pressed on.  “Deadly.  And the _most_ romantic man that _ever_ lived.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, the embarrassment he’d momentarily seemed to forget came back in full force.  “It’s just you,” he muttered, his eyes skittering away.

It kind of made Felicity want to giggle.  Just a little.  _If_ she giggled.  Which she did _not_.  Not without mind-altering…something.  “No, it’s not.  It’s who you are.  You just hide it well.”

“No,” Oliver argued, giving Felicity his best self-deprecating half-smile (it was a look he had honed to perfection).  “It’s _you_.  You didn’t know me before I met you.”

“Well, it would be quite the time paradox if I _knew you_ before I _met you_.” Felicity smiled as she said it.  She was feeling remarkably better.  Maybe there were somethings Oliver could cure just by…being him.

“Funny,” Oliver muttered, still looking completely certain of his…self-doubt.  Why he was pouting while Felicity was trying to tell him how wonderful he was, would forever be a paradox. 

Oliver _was_ a paradox.  A beautiful, perfect paradox.

And for some reason, it made Felicity laugh.  She looped her arms over Oliver’s shoulders and grinned into his perfect eyes.  “I don’t believe it.  A soul _this_ romantic is born, not created.  It’s who you are deep down.”

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Oliver wrapped his arms around Felicity’s waist and pulled her torso flush with his.  “Then it was buried so deep only _you_ could find it.”

“Hmm.”  Felicity wasn’t buying that for a second.  They were talking about the man who was literally giving her Eskimo kisses as they spoke.  She had only been in his life three of his thirty-one years.  Three years couldn’t change a man that much.  “Come on, if I asked Sara…or better yet her _sister_ , the one you dated for, what?  Six years?  Wouldn’t _she_ say you were romantic?” 

Felicity couldn’t imagine Sara’s sister would have stayed with Oliver that long, with all his philandering, if he hadn’t been charming as hell.  _Something_ had drawn her back, over and over.

Oliver let out a bark of laughter.  “Laurel?  You mean would _Laurel_ say I was romantic?  Are we talking before or _after_ she tore me a new one for running off with her sister and disappearing _with_ the very same sister for a decade?”

Smiling, Felicity nodded.  “ _After_.” 

Strangely enough, this was a topic the team had teased Sara and Oliver about so much and so often that there were no hard feelings left.  It was very easy to joke about since they knew how much both Sara and Oliver both regretted their actions and how different they were, both individually and as friends.  The idea of them together romantically perplexed the team enough that they were endless amused by their past.

Though Felicity could imagine this Laurel woman would probably feel much differently.

One side of his mouth tipping up in a wry smile, Oliver drawled, “ _Well_ then, if you asked Laurel… _after_ she calmed down, _if_ she calmed down, I’m pretty sure she would tell you that I had exactly one romantic bone in my body and it came out when I was in trouble and it had a direct line to the florist.”

Laughing, Felicity shook her head.  She didn’t believe it for a minute.  “She must have seen something in you if she stayed that long.  I don’t believe for one minute that _Sara’s_ sister is stupid.  Or just with you for your money.  Not with what Sara’s said about her parents.”

“No.  _No_.” Oliver sighed, his eyes getting distant, that familiar look of guilt burned deep.  This time, Felicity had to admit it was probably warranted.  “That wasn’t Laurel.  She was…I assume, still _is_ a great person.  I, honestly, have _no idea_ why she stayed with me.  I was a _complete_ asshole.”

That set off a string of new laughter and Oliver grinned back.  Felicity was feeling a little floaty and punch drunk with the resolution of her emotional crisis.

And, maybe a little, because of Oliver’s nearness.

“I kept waiting for her to break-up with me for good,” Oliver confessed and it looked like it was something he had needed to say for a long time.  “I think that’s what my little jaunt with Sara was about.  To get Laurel to end it for good.”

Felicity wrinkled her nose at that.  It was hard to even imagine the man, the _boy_ , Oliver described was the same man who sat in front of her.  “Why didn’t you just end it yourself?”

Oliver shrugged.  “To weak.  Too stupid.  Too much of a coward.”

Felicity had to laugh at that, it was so ridiculous.  “All those things are pretty much the _exact_ opposite of the man I know.”

Pleasure lit Oliver’s eyes, along with gratitude but, still, he argued, “Not then I wasn’t.  I’ve _told_ you.  The Ollie Queen that got on the _Gambit_ , the one Laurel Lance loved, god only knows why, _he_ died in the North China Sea and it wasn’t much of a loss.  That Island would have made me into something much… _darker_.  If it wasn’t for ARGUS, and _you_ , who knows what I would have become.”

Oliver humbled Felicity sometimes.  It was clear his experiences had reshaped him.  That he had made _himself_ into something so much more than that spoiled rich kid from Starling City.  But…

“You give _me_ too much credit,” Felicity rasped, emotion clogging her voice so it wouldn’t raise above a whisper.

He shook his head.  “ _You_ don’t give yourself _enough_.”  Oliver pressed a kiss to her lips and Felicity realized that it had been far too many minutes since he had done so.  “Do you want to know why I stayed with Laurel as long as I did?”

Felicity nodded.  Though part of her just wanted to keep kissing.  This was ancient history and…there were so many kisses to make up for.  _Years_ of kisses.

“Well, there was the fact I never felt like I had the right to end things after everything I’d done.  _She_ didn’t do anything wrong.  What right did _I_ have to dump _her_?” Oliver confessed and Felicity tried not to sigh.  It was the kind of ass-backward, self-defeating thinking that she’d come to expect of him.  “But mostly it was…Laurel, she always saw something _good_ in me.  Something deep down.  I think I was addicted to it.  Afraid of what would happen to me without it.  Without her belief in me.”

Stroking his face, Felicity repressed the need to pepper her poor baby with kisses.  What had Oliver’s family life been like that he had needed to stay with a girl he didn’t love just because she was the only one who saw good in him?  All while he was trying to sabotage the relationship?  No wonder Oliver hadn’t gone home.

“But Felicity,” Oliver whispered and his eyes were all melty and loving and, dear _god_ , she could just drown in them.  “Laurel may have _seen_ something good in me, but _you_ were the one who was able to find it, the _only_ one to bring it to the surface.  You brought it out in me.  _You_ made me a better person.”

Tears burned again.  Felicity adored how he saw her, could become addicted to the worshipful way he looked at her, but there was no way she was taking the credit he seemed determined to give her.  “No, Oliver, _you_ made you a better person.”

But Oliver just smiled, straight into her eyes.  “Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree then.”

Felicity wasn’t sure she wanted to agree to any such thing.  But she’d voiced her disagreement, planted the seed that Oliver should be proud of who he was and what he had become.  Now she would just have to water it.  It would take time, but there was nothing she wanted to do more than nurture that idea in the man she loved.  To watch it grow.

Besides, Oliver’s words brought up something else that had been tormenting her.  “I was so worried you would lose sight of that in Russia.  Lose…I dunno, some of that _goodness,_ a piece of your soul, working for the goddamn Bratva.”  The softness Felicity so loved.

Letting out a sigh, Oliver dropped a kiss onto Felicity’s nose.  When he pulled back his eyes were murkier. “It was hard, not gonna lie.  But in the end, I think we did enough good to make the…not-so-clean-cut decisions worth it.”

“Enough good? Is that what you’re calling it?” Felicity scoffed.  Could the man take credit for anything but the bad stuff?  “You took down the _Bratva_ , Oliver.  You’re a _hero_.”  She should know.  She’d spent a decent part of her flight to Cancun hacking the details of the sting.

But Oliver’s scoff was louder than hers and it was accompanied by an impressive eye-roll.  “I… _we_ didn’t _take down_ the Bratva.  It’s too big to destroy.  I just helped the…less morally corrupt factions take over the really evil factions.  And limit its ties to America.” 

On anyone else Felicity would have wondered if the humility was feigned, but unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t.  “Oh.  Well, if _that’s_ all…”  Felicity doubled the sarcastic lilt in her voice and made sure when she rolled her eyes it was even more dramatic than his, “I guess you’re not a hero at all.”

If Felicity giggled after it was totally not her fault given that the bastard started tickling her.  And damn Oliver didn’t know all her weak spots.

“Stop.  Stop,” Felicity gasped until Oliver finally complied, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair.

Felicity held him back just as tightly and smiled into his hair.  She wanted to just sit there and savor the moment, but now that she’d begun to ask the questions that had been bothering her for so long, they just kept coming.

“Oliver?”

“Hmmm?” he hummed into her shoulder.  He didn’t let go.  If anything Oliver pulled Felicity even closer, burrowing in like a little boy, making Felicity feel a flood of affection for the child she was certain was simultaneously a cocky little brat and the sweetest, most insecure little boy.

“Can I…did you ever…?”  Felicity wet her lips, searching for the right way to ask.  The last thing she wanted was the ruin the mood.  Or worse, start an argument.  “Did you even consider going back to Starling after—?”

Oliver grunted into her shoulder, loud enough to cut her off.  “No, no, and no.”

Felicity bit her lip, far from satisfied with his answer but not sure if she should continue to press.  “Yes, but—”

“I _told_ you,” Oliver pulled back to look her in the eyes and, thankfully, he only looked a little irritated by the question.  “I wanted to go home _with you_. I never considered going home after Tikal.  I never _considered_ finding anyone new.  And I sure as _hell_ never considered looking up Laurel again.   The boy she loved died—”

Died.  Felicity knew.  “But that doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t have loved the man you had become,” she insisted.  Because maybe, this idea had eaten at her.  “If Laurel loved you then, you’re down right irresistible now.”

That finally made Oliver smile.  Felicity blushed, though she couldn’t regret saying it, especially when he said, “Well, the only person I don’t want to resist me is _you_.  Why do you keep pushing the issue?  Sometimes, it feels like you want me to—”

“ _No_!”  Felicity blurted out as soon as she got the gist of what he was trying to say, her voice deep and insistent and (she hoped) leaving no room for doubt.  “No way.  I _hated_ the idea of you with someone else.  And now…well, now you’re mine and no one—”

Oliver cut Felicity off with a hard possessive kiss.  “Don’t you _ever_ forget it.  Are we done with the Laurel and…the _other_ woman questions now?” 

He sounded good and frustrated with the subject, but Felicity could only shrug.  “I just wanted you happy,” she defended. 

“Ugh!” Oliver threw back him head until it landed on the stone wall behind them with an soft thunk. “ _You_ make me happy.  And just to make this clear, I may have thought I was in love with Laurel as a kid, but that was only because I didn’t know what love was.  I never felt a _tenth_ of what I feel for you, with her.”

This time tears filled Felicity’s eyes so fast she couldn’t even see and it sucked because she couldn’t stand not to be able to see his beautiful face.  She blinked, sending the them cascading over her cheeks.  “I love you,” she rasped.  “I love you _so much_.  I can’t even…”

“I know.” 

Oliver’s answer was quiet and sure and for some reason that touched her even deeper.  Felicity lunged for his lips and tried to show him with her kiss what she couldn’t seem to find the words for.  At least no words that felt even remotely comparable to the beautiful ones he’d given her.

Sinking into the kiss with an almost relieved sigh, Oliver met her completely, with his whole self. For long minutes they did nothing but lose themselves in reconnecting.  Through their lips and tongues and breath.

Felicity was starting to lose track of time when Oliver pulled back with a sigh, stroking her cheek.  “Let’s get you something to eat and drink.”

Always taking care of her. 

Oliver reached into his bag and Felicity scrubbed her cheeks to get rid of the remnants of her tears, a little embarrassed by the excess of emotion.  She glanced down at her watch and…

“ _Oliver_!  It’s almost 5am.  You let me sleep for almost six hours!”  HIVE had better not have figured out a way to get into these tunnels or they were _screwed_!

But Oliver didn’t seem the least bit concerned (or cowed) by her outburst.  He just pulled out a canteen and pushed it into her hands.  “Felicity, you were exhausted.  If you hadn’t had a nightmare, I wouldn’t have woken you at all.” 

Seriously?  What the hell?  He had better not start treating her like fragile little… _thing_.  Felicity was still strong.  She might have panic attacks and cry too much and…she was only just realizing this herself but she was still _damn_ strong. 

Life had thrown an awful lot at Felicity and she was still swinging.

“I’m an ARGUS Agent, same as you.  I don’t need to be coddled.”  Oliver may (technically) be here CO, but that didn’t give him the right to treat her as…a _civilian_ or something.  That was lot of time they lost.

But Oliver just shrugged and looked pointedly at the canteen.  Apparently, he wasn’t even going to give her the satisfaction of a debate.

Felicity frowned and glared…actually, she scowled and glared.  Yup, that’s right, she _scowled_. 

But she drank the damn water, grumbling, “We need to ration this.  Who knows how long we’ll be down here?” Felicity couldn’t help but add, “Especially, if they’re sleeping for _hours_ at a time.” 

“We should,” Oliver agreed, all agreeable now as he took a drink for himself.  “But we’re going to be out of this tunnel _long_ before we run out of water.”

“Umph,” Felicity grunted.  “So how much sleep did _you_ get?” She knew damn well what the answer was, but she wanted Oliver to say it.  She had a point to prove.

“I got plenty of rest,” Oliver said and it was mildly annoying to say the least.  It would be even more annoying if she wasn’t so in love with the big idiot.

“And you closed your eyes…?”

“Occasionally.”

Yup.  Ummhmm.  “Without ever losing awareness of your surroundings?”

“I’d be a pretty terrible lookout if I did.”  Oliver smiled at her innocently.  He was very good at that smile.

“And _now_ you’re going to let me stand guard while _you_ sleep.”  Felicity had a pretty good innocent smile too.  Well, maybe hers had a bit of a bite.

But instead of being cowed, Oliver’s smile just widened.  “Just as soon as I need some sleep.”  Then before Felicity could continue this _lovely_ banter, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips and a protein bar into her hands.  He always had played dirty.

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him and unwrapped the protein bar, taking a bite.  Mint Chocolate chip.  Her favorite.  Of course.  “Did really you just sit there, acting as my lounge chair for _six hours_?”

Oliver wagged his eyebrows.  “Your look-out lounge chair.”

Now that Oliver was _trying_ to be funny he was much less successful at it.  “Seriously, what did you _do_ for six hours?”  Felicity would have gone crazy just sitting there with nothing to do but think.

But Oliver, Mr. Patience, just grinned and took a bite of his own bar…oatmeal raisin.  Her _least_ favorite, which she suspected he didn’t like much better.  “I enjoyed the view.”

Well…that was a really, _really_ good answer. 

But Felicity made sure to roll her eyes anyway, just so Oliver didn’t think he could sweet-talk himself out of everything.  Mostly of the time he could.  But it wouldn’t do for him to be any more aware of that than he already was. 

“ _Please_ , the last time you had that much time to think, you spent 24 hours sniping and growling at me,” Felicity argued, though any bite was fading fast.  “What did you think about this time?”

“Same stuff.”

Felicity’s eyes snapped to his.  Only to find Oliver’s twinkling.  “Seriously?”  Because last time she was pretty sure he was brooding about the last five years and their separation.

“Pretty much.”  Oliver was still grinning and Felicity had to say it was amazing to see him relaxed like this, even if it made zero sense given the circumstances.  “I thought back over the last five and half years _and_ …well, it was like someone finally gave me the rubric for a code I’d been trying to break for years.  The puzzle pieces finally fit.”

Well, okay, that made sense, but Felicity couldn’t say the idea gave her comfort.  “The final picture isn’t very pretty.”

“Parts maybe,” Oliver agreed, reaching over and cupping her cheek.  “But the whole picture, taken together…it has its own beauty.  So much better than mess I was making of it.”  He winked and Felicity couldn’t help but grin.

But then she bit her lip and looked down, playing with the wrapper of her protein bar.  Oliver’s thumb ran over her lip and freed it from her teeth, giving Felicity the courage to ask, “Did you…did you _just_ think about the past?”

But instead of answering, Oliver just raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her to elaborate as his thumb drew patterns on her cheek.  He was leaving this ball entirely in her court, whether she wanted it there or not.

“I mean did you…?”  Okay, this was really hard.  But it was important, so unfortunately, they needed to talk about it.  “Well, did you think about how what I told you affects the future?” _Their_ future.

Again, Oliver just looked confused.  _Dammit_.  Was Felicity really going to have to spell it out for him? 

Felicity fists curled into tight balls, her nails digging into her palms.  “Because…if you still want what you wanted _before_ …”

Oliver finally opened his mouth, but he seemed to freeze there and Felicity was forced to keep going. 

“Then I just want you to know…”  God, now Felicity just wanted to say this without crying. “That adoption or surrogacy… _you_ can still have a child of your own.”  That was where Felicity started talking really fast, trying to get it all out before Oliver could stop her. “I thought it would bother me but now I think it would be fine.  Great, even.  Maybe.  If that’s what _you_ want.  I would love a baby of yours.   _Completely_.  I mean, it wouldn’t just be yours.  It would be _ours_ and you have some pretty amazing genes.  They should be passed on—”

“Felicity.  _Felicity_!”

She came to an abrupt halt, unsure exactly how many times Oliver had called her name while her words ( _and thoughts_ ) had been a run-away train. 

Oliver reached at and tugged on the tight balls she’d made of her fists, running his thumbs over her knuckles until the finally released and Felicity’s palms lay in his.  “Felicity, sweetheart, I _just_ got you back—"

“Oh god!”  She’d messed up.  Again.  She’d presumed too much.  Felicity’s whole body went tense and her tongue took off again, “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I got ahead of myself.  What was I thinking?  We haven’t been back together for 24 hours and I’m already talking about…”  She blew out a breath and shook her head.  “Of course, you don’t want to jump in right where we left off.  That would be stupid.  We can’t pretend five years didn’t—”

Oliver’s hand clamped over her mouth, stopping the flow of words.  How long had he been trying to shush her before resorting to that?  Felicity had no idea.  Clamped her lips shut, she breathed out of her nose.  Her heart and thoughts were racing, but Oliver’s eyes were calm and it was hard to look into them and not feel a little of that herself. 

“If I let go are you going to let me talk?” Oliver asked and Felicity nodded, feeling stupid and anxious and…

Oliver’s hand fell away, but he left a finger pressed to her lips.  “To remind you,” he told her with a lop-sided grin.  He was too damn adorable to be allowed.  “What I was _trying_ to say was…I just got you back, I’m not really thinking past, ‘Thank god.’  And maybe ‘Wow’ and ‘I’m not letting you go again.  Ever.’”

Felicity mewed then, like the lovesick fool she was, heart-eyes and all.  She did have the excuse of not being able to use actual words.  Also, Oliver was looking at her the same way, so maybe it was only fair.

Oliver was so _earnest_ when he said, “So if that’s jumping in right where we left off then, yeah, I’m all in.”

This time, Felicity let out a relieved sigh and kissed his thumb.  She had absolutely no desire to argue with that.

Oliver seemed to take it as encouragement, because his face relaxed into a smile and he continued, “And the rest…Sunshine, after five years without you, I don’t care if we take over an orphanage or we become that old couple who has been in ARGUS for 50 years and still goes on missions or…we buy a cabin on a mountain and adopt fifteen cats.”

Felicity laughed out loud at that last one, feeling giddy as his words washed over her.  The things Oliver said, some of them, she wished she could record them and keep them forever. 

Oliver smile deepened, his dimples out in full force, the DEFCON 5 of dimples, lord help her, as he pulled her back in.  This time when he kissed her it wasn’t a quick reassuring peck.  No, this time he lingered, tasting and nipping and, wow, Felicity felt like the luckiest person on the planet.

Despite everything.  All she’d been through.  The _luckiest_.

“See,” Felicity murmured against his lips, tasting her own tears.  “This is what I was talking about.  You really are the most excessively romantic man.  Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re real.”

And…there were the dimples again.  Felicity was dead.  Dead from the dimples.  What a way to go.

“I can try to stop,” Oliver snarked.  At least he wasn’t denying it. 

“Hell _no_!” Felicity cried, enjoying Oliver’s answering laugh.  “I love it.  I love _you_!”

“I love you.”  Oliver’s response was automatic, without the slightest pause after her declaration and it warmed her and….

“I’m happy to table the whole adoption vs surrogacy vs. cat farm for, you know, a less deadly situation, but I…”  Felicity took a deep breath, not sure where she was going with this…oh, wait. Yes, she did.  “I do have a thought…well, a _request_.  For the… _our_ future.”

At the word ‘our’ his face became even more melty and Oliver said, “Anything you want.” Without the slightest bit of hesitation.  It was humbling. 

“You don’t have to say things like that,” Felicity told him, just to make sure Oliver wasn’t still trying to win her over.  She was won.  It hadn’t even been a contest.  “I want to be with you no matter what.  This isn’t a condition, just a place to start a conversation.”

“I just want you to be hap…”  Oliver must have caught the defiant look in Felicity’s eyes because he trailed off, then sighed.  “Let’s start with you telling me what you want, okay?”

Felicity almost asked him to promise not to agree to it just because it was what she wanted.  To think about what _he_ wanted.  But she was just selfish enough to start without the disclaimer.  Besides, it really was just that important.

“I want…” Felicity sighed, because as she thought about it a wave of exhaustion that had nothing to do with how much sleep she got washed over her.  “Oh Oliver, I’m…I’m just not cut out for this life anymore.  Worrying every mission, every _day_ might be our last.  Now that I have something to live for I’d really like to… _live_.”

Oliver’s whole demeanor changed, became somber and his lips twisted in a sad, tired smile.  “This whole life and death thing has lost its thill, hasn’t it?”

“God, yes.”  Felicity nodded vigorously.  She couldn’t agree vehemently _enough_.  And she was so glad he understood.

Pressing his lips tightly together, Oliver swallowed.  At least Felicity knew he was giving this serious thought.  As much as she wanted him to agree, she didn’t want him to do it impulsively or just for her. 

“You want to leave ARGUS?”

“I…” Felicity’s stomach clenched at the thought.  ARGUS had been her home, her _identity_ for her entire adult life but…she couldn’t keep this up.  “Maybe.”  And maybe it was _time_ to figure out who they were without ARGUS.  “If we survive—”

Oliver cut her off with a look.  It seemed he had a very low tolerance for his ‘Sunshine’s’ new pessimism.

Felicity swallowed and tried again, “ _When_ we finish this mission, I’m…I just don’t think I want to go into the field anymore.  And, I guess…it’s not fair of me, but I’d rather you didn’t either.” Oh god, the look on Oliver’s face.  Wrecked, almost.  She shouldn’t have said anything.  “At least not any really _dangerous_ missions.”  Yeah, that was better.  Damn, she was fraking this up.  “I don’t have the right to ask this, so if you don’t—”

“It’s not...” Oliver broke off with a sigh, shaking his head and Felicity was having a difficult time reading him and that might just be freaking her out just a _huge_ bit.  “It’s just that for a long time I haven’t even thought about leaving.  I think I just assumed that…well, that I’d die for ARGUS.  Eventually.”

Felicity was so horrified by the idea…she couldn’t even speak.  Actually, she thought she might throw-up.

“So can you see why…?”  Oliver let out a breath and sat back, shaking his head.  “Maybe we _should_ quit.”

“ _Yes_!”  Felicity burst out.   And maybe that wasn’t fair.  Maybe it needed more discussion and maybe she was taking advantage of his need to please her, but if Oliver pleased her by staying _alive_ …she could live with that. 

Because he was _not_ dying for ARGUS.  Over her dead body…

_Damnit_.  Felicity needed to stop thinking that way.  That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. 

“I think it might be best if we retire.” Felicity clarified, hoping she wasn’t pressuring Oliver _too_ much.  “Cats and orphanages optional.”

Oliver’s lip quirked up at the side and it made her feel so much better.  “What about the CAVE?  You love it there.”

At first, it took Felicity aback.  Is that what Oliver thought?  Was it _true_?  _Did_ she love the CAVE?

“The CAVE…”  It was funny how everything looked different with something Felicity truly loved was in front of her.  “The CAVE was a pleasant place to hide.  To avoid living for a while.  I love _you_.  And I…I’d like to start living again.”

Letting out a breath, Oliver folded Felicity’s hands in his, looking at her with sober eyes.  “But you’re _good_ at your job and I know at least part of it you really enjoy.  And, truthfully, it’s the same for me.”

Oh god, this wasn’t going to work.  Oliver wasn’t ready to leave.  And Felicity wasn’t leaving without him.  She swallowed down the beginnings of a sob and argued, “I can find the things I like about my job other places and I…I hope you can too.  The only thing I would _really_ miss are the people…not _all_ the people.  Can’t wait to get rid of Waller.”

Oliver chuckled and it seemed to break a little of the tension.  Thank _god_.

“But our friends…they’re in constant danger too.  And I feel like Curtis, even Cisco, followed me into this and now they could be…”  Felicity wasn’t able to catch that sob in time and her voice was wrecked as she forced out, “I’m tired of watching our friends die.  I can’t bare it.  I can’t.”

It felt like her words were manipulative, but they were…they were the _truth_.  And that was all Felicity had to give.

Oliver transferred both of her hands to one of his and reached to thread his hand into her hair and press his forehead to hers as he whispered, “I’m afraid for them too.”

Felicity really could see the fear in his eyes and…

“I’m sure they escaped,” Felicity found herself saying.  “Sara, Slade, Curtis…if Damian Darhk had them, then he would have used them to lure us out.”  At least that’s what Felicity would have done.

“Ah.  _There’s_ my Sunshine.”  Oliver flashed a brief smile, but it faded as he said, “Do you have any comforting words about Roy?”  He seemed to be holding his breath with that one.

Crap.  Felicity came up onto her knees and pulled Oliver into a tight hug.  “Cait’s the best there is.  There’s no way she’s going to let him die.” 

And pressing her lips to his temple, Felicity prayed for all their sakes, that it was true.

Oliver nodded against her shoulder.  “I just feel like he’s my responsibility,” he murmured, showing the sort of vulnerability Felicity knew he never showed anyone but her and it brought those damn tears right back.  And hearing him say how he felt about Roy, even though she had known…hearing him say it out loud, it was both touching and heartbreaking.  “If you feel like Curtis followed you…there’s no _way_ Roy would be here if it weren’t for me.  If that kid dies—”

“ _Not_ going to happen,” Felicity insisted, not sure why she could be so much more optimistic when Oliver was the one worried.  “And it’s _not_ your fault he’s here.  He wanted to come.  He _chose_ this life.  He’s ARGUS too.”

“I know,” Oliver murmured and the way he said it into her shoulder made it feel like it was something he was ashamed to admit.  His arms were tight around her, but she could feel his fingers rubbing together against her back.  “But I trained him.  What does it say about how well I prepared him that he got—?”

“It _says_ Roy’s a really awesome agent who doesn’t hold back in a dangerous situation.  That he’s a hero.  Wonder who he got that from?” He scoffed against her skin and Felicity, somehow, found herself smiling.  “Anything can happen in a battle, Oliver,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair.  “You _know_ that.”  Which was exactly why she wanted out.

Felicity wasn’t sure what Oliver’s response was.  All she could make out was a grunt, what with the way his mouth had found the skin of her neck and attached itself.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of too,” Felicity sighed, stroking his head and allowing him to rest on _her_ shoulder for once.  Poor sweet Roy, who Felicity barely got to know, who took care of her Oliver in Russia without even being asked to, who she knew was one of the reasons Oliver was able to hold onto his humanity.  She prayed, with everything in her, that he was okay.  “Poor Puppy.”

“Puppy?”  Oliver turned his head just enough to look up at her and the eyes he was giving her…maybe, _he_ was the puppy.

Oh _shoot_!  Had she said that out loud?  Eek!  And, also, god _dam_ mit.

When Felicity didn’t answer immediately (and what was she supposed to say?  It wasn’t like she could put the cat…or the puppy…back in the bag?)  Oliver sat up and met her eyes and…uh oh…

There was laughter was dancing in those sinful blue eyes.  “ _Fe-li-ci-ty…?”_ Oliver wheedled.

Crap, she was in trouble now.  Wincing, Felicity…well, she never _could_ resist when he said her name like that.  “So I might have been secretly…in _my head_ …calling Roy a puppy.  Your Puppy, to be precise.” 

“What!?” Oliver’s laugh was loud and made Felicity glad this place didn’t echo.  Though she was torn between being embarrassed and just enjoying Oliver’s improved mood.  Oh and being worried about how this might pan out for poor Roy.

“Because he’s, you know, puppy-like.  Sweet and friendly and loyal.”  Felicity might have been wringing her hands at this point, feeling silly and guilty at the same time.  “I couldn’t help but be glad that you had a puppy like Roy in Russia.  So you weren’t lonely…”

Oliver’s laughter petered off to an emotional sort of groan that cut itself off when he grabbed Felicity’s head between his large hands and pressed his lips to hers. 

When Oliver pulled back, his dimples were in pull display.  “Now Roy _has_ to survive.  No way the universe is going to deprive me of the opportunity to call him ‘Puppy’.”

Felicity’s face fell.  “Oh _no_ …”  This was awful.

“Oh, _yes_.”  Oliver was positively gleeful.

Poor, poor Puppy.  “ _Please,_ tell me you won’t let Slade—”

But Oliver just shrugged, smiling to himself as he turned and quickly repacked the few things they had taken out.  “No one controls Slade.”

Felicity moaned.  “That doesn’t mean you have to _tell_ him!” 

She’d have to get to Shado first.  Because ‘no one controls Slade’ didn’t include Shado.  Maybe with her help, poor Roy would have a fighting chance. 

Oliver leveraged himself off the floor, leaving Felicity to blink up at him.  _Now_ he was in a rush to get going?  “You sure you don’t want to try to sleep?  I can—”

“I’m going to walk a little bit back and relieve myself, but then I think we should get going.”  He grabbed his quiver, because heaven forbid he not wear it for five and half seconds, even to _pee_.  “The sooner we finish this mission, the sooner we can tell Waller we quit.”  Oliver’s eyes gleamed.  It was no secret Waller was his least favorite thing about ARGUS. 

Biting her lip, Felicity allowed Oliver to drag her to her feet.  Now that he mentioned it, she was going to have to take a turn back in the tunnel herself before they got moving.  “How many of our friends do you think we can convince to come with us?”

If it was possible for Oliver’s eyes to get brighter, they did.  “Ahhh.  Can you imagine getting to tell Waller _all_ of us are quitting?  If that isn’t an incentive to complete this damn mission, I don’t know what is.”

Felicity laughed.  She couldn’t say that was her number one motivation, but it would certainly be the cherry on top. 

And when Oliver put it that way…Felicity was more than eager to get moving.  The future was bright.

All they had to do was survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m very much hoping to keep writing TSTS into the summer, but my Muse can be temperamental and strong-willed.   I’m trying very hard to hold to my vow not to start anything new until this and _Don’t Let Me Go_ are finished (though, dear God, season six needs some serious fixing).
> 
> The other big thing I want to announce is that after much debate (internal and external), I’ve decided to go Spoiler-free for the remainder of this story.  Well, mostly.  You’ll still get the Thursday sneak peeks, but I’m going to keep hints out of the author’s notes and off social media.  It also means I won’t say anything spoilery in the comment section either.  I really want to preserve the experience.
> 
> Don’t worry.  Remember I promised a happy ending.  A _very_ happy ending.  Cross my heart and hope to die.
> 
> _Please_ , don’t let this keep you from sharing your theories and comments with me.  I love to read them!  But I’ll let you debate what’s going to happen amongst yourselves.
> 
> Thank you so much to  **mariposablue9, Imusuallyobsessed** , and  **Ireland1733**  for their friendship, support and hard work.  I can be a pain in the butt to work with and they are wonderful. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>    
> 
>  
> 
>  


	23. Chapter 22: The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have new “Previously on…” chapter summaries **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/173431115525/previously-on-to-sacrifice-the-sun-2018).** (I managed to get all but the prologue under 250 words each).
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found **[here.](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)**

_September 19, 2016_  
_10:11_  
_The Tunnel_  
_Beneath Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico_

 

“I think I prefer the gym idea to the private detective agency idea.”

They’d been walking down the tunnel (the _endless_ tunnel) for hours now, hands loosely entwined and swinging between them.

“Why?  We’d be awesome PIs,” Oliver argued, the enthusiasm in his voice obvious.  “You can hack anything.  We can get Cait and her boyfriend on forensics.  Roy and I—”

“It’s still dangerous. The whole point of leaving ARGUS is for it to be _not_ dangerous.” Felicity felt guilty the moment the words out of her mouth.  She felt like an anxious, nagging wife.  Oliver was willing to leave ARGUS for her, was it fair for her to take away everything he loved?

But Oliver just chuckled, taking it in stride.  “Being a PI isn’t _that_ dangerous, Sunshine.”

Well, not compared to ARGUS but…Felicity felt the insane urge to take Oliver up on his cabin-in-the-woods-slash-fifteen-cats offer.  “Until the people we’re investigating decide they don’t want to be investigated and try to protect their secrets.  Violently.”

Again, Oliver just laughed.  “I wish them luck with that.” 

Even if she wasn’t looking at his face, Felicity could hear the smirk in Oliver’s voice.  She’d say it was arrogance, but his confidence was well deserved and she _was_ being overly cautious.  Probably.

“ _Or_ ,” Felicity suggested with a wheedling smile, throwing in an under the lashes look for good measure (funny how easily these things came back, “you can teach archery and Digg can teach boxing and Sara can revolutionize women’s self-defense classes and…we could all be safe as houses.” 

Felicity smiled to herself just thinking about it.  She didn’t mind being bored to death as long as her friends…her _family_ was safe.  She’d had enough excitement to last a lifetime.

“I’ve never understood that phrase.  What’s so safe about houses?” Oliver mused.  The question must have been rhetorical (which was good since Felicity didn’t have an answer), because he kept right on talking, “Besides, have you _seen_ an amateur shoot an arrow?  Not sure houses can keep anyone safe from _that_.”

It seemed Oliver’s lighthearted attitude was contagious because Felicity laughed too, shaking her head as they turned at a bend in the path.  The tunnel wasn’t a straight shot, it bent and curved like any other road.  “I’m sure you can…” 

Felicity trailed off.  Her heart skipped a beat and she…oh _god_ …

“Oliver!” Felicity squealed, dropping his hand and running ahead. 

Because in the distance there wasn’t a never-ending tunnel.

Just when Felicity thought it might never end, it had. 

Ahead was a giant mural of the Mayan Sun complete with the face of Kinch Ahua in the center and…

Thank fraking _god_!

Their talk of the future was all well and good.  It was wonderful, really, to hear Oliver’s enthusiastic ideas.  It was the best kind of distraction but…Felicity was still having difficulty believing that something _this_ _good_ could happen to her.

Running full out (just because it was hard to believe, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to grab on with both hands), Felicity landed against the mural with flat palms.  The old plaster was cool against her hands as her eyes flew over the chipping paint that made up the red and orange sun.

“Does it have a place for the moonstone?”

Felicity’s eyes were already searching the wall.  Searching for a break in the limestone, a divide.  For a palm print sun.  A cavity for the moonstone.  Carvings.  Hieroglyphics.  _Anything_.

But…

There was… _nothing_.

Oliver pulled his glow ball out of his pocket and the little cave at the end of the tunnel was thrown into the light.  Breathing heavily, Felicity took two steps back to look at the entire Door at once and…

Except…

Felicity’s stomach started to tie itself into knots, making quick work of her insides, creating a complicated macramé because…because…

It didn’t look like a door at all.  It looked like…

An end.

The tunnel just _ended_.  In solid rock.   It wasn’t a door.  It was a _wall_. 

A beautifully painted, elaborately designed _solid_ limestone wall.

Her chest grew so tight Felicity didn’t even know how she was still breathing.  How could it just _end_?

Oliver was next to her, his shoulder brushing Felicity’s as he ran his palms over the wall (not a door. _A_ _wall_ ), saying, “Do you see any hieroglyphics or—?”

“No,” Felicity cut Oliver off in a whisper.  Because whatever he was going to ask, whatever hope he was trying to give, the answer was…no.   Just _no_.

“Surely, _something_ —”

“No.”

The sinking feeling got worse, until Felicity felt like she was being sucked into a whirlpool.  The world started to spin. 

Was this Felicity’s punishment for hoping…for daring to _consider_ a future?  A _happy_ future of all things?  Were her sins so great as to deserve _this_?  What she wanted most dangled in front of her, only to be trapped, to die a slow death in a hole in the ground.

“There has to be some way through,” Oliver murmured and he didn’t sound nearly as upset as she felt.  There was still a note of hope, of determination in his voice.   How did he not see this for what it was?

A dead end.

Felicity let out a hysterical laugh, one that sounded deranged even to her own ears.  It ended with a sob.  “I think I’ve heard that before.  Third times the charm, right?  Or have we finally run out of luck?”

The look Oliver shot her was concerned, but he clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulders.  Pure stubbornness flashed in his eyes and he barked, “Stand back.” 

When Felicity didn’t immediately do as he asked, Oliver tugged on her shoulder, pulling her back like a rag doll.  That was what she felt like.  An old discarded toy.  Limp and empty headed.  Well, empty except for the white noise of panic reverberating through her skull.

Oliver dropped their bags and braced himself, putting his shoulder to the door and pushing.

Except it _wasn’t_ a door.  It was a _wall._ So as strong as he was, Oliver made as much progress as one would expect any _human_ _being_ would make trying to shove a solid limestone wall.

Oh god, it was hopeless.  There was no Kin Cuudad.  There was no Gift.  There were just millennia old myths.  That ended.  In dead-ends.  

It didn’t even make sense.  Why would they go to the trouble to build a 25-mile tunnel only to end in…nothing?  Just a painting of the sun.

Tears burned her eyes and all Felicity was able to do was stare at Oliver’s straining muscles and think he may have the will to move mountains, but he was still just a man. 

Oliver’s face turned red and sweat started to bead on his forehead.  Felicity needed to tell him to stop but she couldn’t form words.

Finally, Oliver gave up his ridiculous plan and stood back, panting as he looked over his non-existent progress.  Then his stance changed and it took Felicity a moment to grasp what he intended…

_Holy frak!_

“No!  _Oliver_!” 

Felicity found her voice quickly then as she jumped in front of him, not thinking of anything other than stopping Oliver from kicking the wall.  Because as powerful as his sidekick was she was willing to bet the _rock wall_ would win.

“Jesus!  _Felicity_!” Oliver snapped, jerking back just in time to keep from kicking _her_.  “I could have hurt you!”

“Instead of just hurting _yourself_?” Felicity yelled back just as loud and twice as shrill.  Her heart was pounding, not only from fear for him, but because he was right.  Jumping in front of him had been pretty damn stupid.  But she didn’t back down, “Oliver, that’s _solid_ stone.  You’re going to break your leg before you make any progress.  _Then_ what are we going to do?”

Oliver frowned, but it looked like he was listening at least when he shifted out of his kicking stance.  Thank _god_.  Seriously, his plan was to _kick_ down a wall?  Even if that worked, it would probably cause a cave in.  Felicity really needed to think of some sort of a plan.  _Anything_.  before Oliver did something _really_ stupid—

“Oliver!” Felicity shrieked, jumping back and clutching her chest as the idiot…yes, _i-di-ot_ ran at the wall at full speed. 

He crashed into the wall with the sickening thud.  She didn’t hear the cracking of bones (hopefully), just Oliver’s soft grunt of pain.  Felicity didn’t even feel bad for him.  What was _hell_ was he thinking!? 

“Oh that’s great!  Dislocating your shoulder is _so_ much better than breaking a leg!” Felicity snapped, pushing Oliver away from the wall, her hands ghosting over him as she looked for injuries.  Stupid, stupid stubborn man!   “Are you okay?”

Oliver nodded, but he was still paying much more attention to the wall than her.  “It’s not budging,” he panted.

No fricking kidding!  ‘It’s not budging,’ he says.  Idiot!

Sighing Oliver, put his hands on hips and tuned to Felicity.  “Any ideas?” 

Ha!  She wished.  

Still, Felicity pushed aside the lecture that was itching to come out and turned back to the matter at hand.  Not that it did any good.  No amount of wishing could make a door appear.  Or even a clue.  It was still just a sun with a face in the middle of a wall.  It could have been a mural on a child’s bedroom if the expression on the sun’s face wasn’t borderline terrifying.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Felicity whispered.  “Why build a tunnel in the first place only to give it a blind end?” 

It was pretty sad when the most optimistic thought Felicity had to offer was doubting the logic of the worst-case scenario.

“Do you think we missed a turn?  An exit along the way?” Oliver asked, his forehead crinkled as he glanced behind them.   At least _he_ was managing to stay calm and rational.  Well, rational now that he had given up the brute force ‘strategy.’

“Maybe,” Felicity murmured, though she couldn’t make herself believe it. 

A new wave a hopelessness washed over her and she fell forward, her forehead landing on the center of the sun as her mind supplied a decidedly less optimistic answer.  What if this had, _at_ _one time,_ been a through tunnel?  But it had been sealed, possibly thousands of years ago, to keep everyone out?

But out of what?

Instinctively, Felicity’s hand found the pocket with the moonstone and settled on top of it, squeezing it through the thick fabric of her shorts.

If someone had built a wall sealing the tunnel closed, it made sense that Kin Cuuadad was on the other side.  But who would have done such a thing?  Was there another way through?  And why would the moonstone lead them to a dead-end?

Unless the stone didn’t know.  Unless the tunnel had been sealed after the memories were stored—

Oh _dear god_.  What the frak was wrong with her?  ‘The stone didn’t know?’  It was a piece of _rock_!  It didn’t have memories.  It wasn’t _guiding_ her.

It was just a stone.  A beautifully carved, extremely old, _stone_.

And, most likely, Kin Cuudad had disappeared millennia ago.  _If_ it even existed in the first place.

So why was Felicity unsnapping her pocket and slipping her hand inside to close around the warm rock?

Felicity had no fricken clue, but still she stood, eyes closed, running her thumb over the ridges decorating the moonstone.  And listening to Oliver.  

He was calm and collected.  Ever the perfect agent.  The perfect boyfriend.

Felicity listened, but all she could hear was the cadence of Oliver’s voice, catching only a word here, a phrase there.  

“…moonstone…”

“…figure something…”

“Look over your tablet…”

“…could always go back and get reinforcements…”

Felicity could feel another hysterical laugh bubbling up at the last one.  As she stood there, clutching the Mayan equivalent of a lucky rabbit’s foot. 

Go back?  Twenty-five _fraking_ miles?  Would they even make it?  Would their water last?  Would Damien Darhk be waiting for them if it did?

And when was Oliver going to realize Felicity was in the beginning stages of a mental breakdown?  One that had the potential to escalate very quickly? 

Poor Oliver, he deserved so much more than this. 

Maybe they both did.  

Felicity clutched the stone more tightly, until the ridges bit into her palm.

All the pain.  All they had been through.  The fight to find each other again, to work through all the pain and…was this all they were going to get?  A few beautiful days together?

And if it was, was _this_ how Felicity wanted to spend it?  Her last…her only days…her only _hours_ with Oliver?  Did Felicity want to spend them bitter and afraid?  Feeling sorry for herself? 

So much wasted time.

Even today, the time they had spent together had been wonderful, but…had they had spent it making plans that would never be?  Waiting for a time they didn’t have?

Waiting.

Why the hell were they _waiting_? 

Hadn’t they learned by now how fragile life was?  That they needed to seize every precious moment?

Pulling herself up, Felicity turned, leaning back against the wall and looking up at Oliver.   He was standing there, strong and self-assured.  His eyes were focused on the sun over her shoulder, his hands on his hips, arm muscles all bulgy and beautiful.  

Oliver was laying out a plan of action.  A brilliant one, Felicity was sure.  Even if she only caught every third word. 

But the timber and cadence of Oliver’s voice was incredibly…soothing.

And arousing. 

Felicity found her grip loosening and she rolled the stone in her palm as her own plan started to form in her head.

She was aware of how her breathing was changing, becoming deep and full.  Her heart started to thud.  Her skin was starting to warm, tinging with a need to touch.  Her head cleared of the fog and found a new focus.  Suddenly, Felicity was very aware of every aspect of her body.  And Oliver’s. 

And his was beautiful. 

Oliver had said he would rather die down here than live without her and…

Felicity didn’t want to die.  Dear _god_ , she didn’t want to die. 

Not now.  Not when she could _live_ with Oliver.  But maybe Felicity was finally starting to understand what he meant.

A day together was better than a lifetime apart.  Every moment they had together was a miracle.  It didn’t matter where they were or what the circumstances.  Or even what the future held.  They were _together_.  Here.  Now.  That needed to be appreciated.  _Savored_.

And, just like that, all the fear and anxiety disappeared and all there was was… _Oliver_.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity re-snapped the stone back in her pocket and took the tiniest of steps. 

That was all it took to be able to place her hands on Oliver’s chest.  It was warmer than her silly magic stone.  And felt much, much better.  Felicity’s mood had made a miraculous recovery, it seemed.   It took no effort at all to smile up at him.

Immediately, Oliver returned her smile, looking relieved.  His hands fell to Felicity’s waist and he pulled her the slightest bit closer, anchoring her, as he asked, “So what do you think?”

It should be a difficult question.  Felicity had absolutely no idea what Oliver was asking her opinion on.  But, somehow, it wasn’t.

“I think…” Felicity looked up into his eyes and wet her lips with her tongue, noticing how Oliver’s eyes caught the movement and followed it.  She’d swear he was trying to keep his mind on the task at hand and that made the lapse all that more enticing.  “I _think_ we might not get out of here.”

Oliver’s face fell and he groaned, _“Fe-li-ci-ty—”_

“And maybe we will,” Felicity added quickly, because this wasn’t about giving up hope.  Not really.  This was about not wasting anymore time.  About grabbing what they had with both hands and _living_.  Whether they had five hours or five decades.  “And maybe we’ll grown old together.   Maybe we’ll find Kin Cuudad and maybe…maybe it’s gone forever.  Maybe Damian Darhk will get there first—”

“ _Felicity_!”  Oliver cut her off more firmly this time, his eyes confused and worried. 

Oliver didn’t understand.  Not yet. 

He would soon. 

“But…” Felicity curled her fists into his shirt and yanked.  Oliver clearly wasn’t expecting it and stumbled forward, slamming into her and sending them both careening into the wall.  That damn sun-painted wall.   “I don’t want to wait any more.”

“Felicity?” This third time he said it… _this_ time it was nothing but the softest murmur.  He still sounded confused but…Oliver’s eyes dilated, his breath shorter.

Oliver’s body was catching on even if his mind was lagging behind.  Felicity could work with that.    

Pulling on his shirt until his lips were a mere centimeter from hers, Felicity went in for the kill (so to speak), “I don’t want to wait at _all_.  After all the time we’ve lost, that we’ve… _I’ve_ wasted, I don’t want to wait _ever again_.”

“Felicity?”  Oliver was panting and his eyes were dilated.  He was leaning into her now, sandwiching her between the wall and his big body, which she rather liked.   “What are you saying?”

Oliver still had that adorable crinkle in his forehead, but the corners of his lips had started to tip up.  His eyes were bright with excitement.  Felicity was pretty sure he knew exactly what she was saying.  Though, if he needed her to say it that was just fine too. 

“I’m saying…” Wow, her voice was husky.  Felicity was almost proud.  “That I don’t know if we are _ever_ going to get those fluffy white pillows and down comforter, but…I don’t care.   Either way, I _don’t_ care.”

“Fel—”

She didn’t let Oliver get her full name out this time before yanking him down until his lips collided with hers.

Oliver and Felicity had shared many kisses since they had started the loooong journey down this god forsaken tunnel.  Countless kisses, actually.   An impressive amount, considering they had been back together less than a day (and, wow, it seemed like so much longer), but they hadn’t kissed like _this_ since that first marathon kiss in the antechamber.

With this 0-60 passion.  No hello, just wide-open mouths and questing tongues.  Deep and hard and intense.

Yet, it was still so different. That first kiss was all confused desperation.  A strange mix of need and anger and wonder.  _This_ kiss was confident and urgent.  Though Felicity was no less desperate.  The future was no more certain and she was desperate to steal every moment she could, to connect as completely as was humanly possible.

But with everything she was feeling, all the intensity coursing through her, it took Felicity a minute (or five) to realize the mindless desperation was coming from her alone.

Oh, Oliver’s kiss was passionate.  Loving.  But…

He pulled back, yanking his lips away, depriving her of their warmth.   Felicity showed her displeasure with a sharp nip to Oliver’s bottom lip. 

It earned her a low growl, followed by a breathless chuckle.  “Felicity, _baby_ …”

And, wow, the low rumble of Oliver’s voice did something to her, something deep inside.  It sent a shock of sensation skittering along Felicity’s skin along with a gush of arousal.

But this was not the time for conversation.  They’d had plenty of _that_ in the last twenty-four hours.  Wonderful, long, soul-connecting conversation.  It had been incredibly needed and healing and that was just great great _great_.  

Now Felicity was looking for another kind of _connection_ all together. 

Pressing up to her toes, Felicity strained to get closer, one hand pulling him in with her grip on his shirt and the other threading into his hair.  She latched onto Oliver’s chin, running her teeth along the edge of his jaw, testing the texture of his stubble.  God, how she’d missed every last _inch_ of him.

Groaning, Oliver’s head fell back and it made Felicity smile against his skin.  She must be doing something right.  Also…more access.  She dragged her lips and teeth and tongue along the underside of his chin to his throat. 

Oliver’s hands moved restlessly over her hips and waist, teasing the edge of her shirt.  Not going any further.  He was still fighting himself.  But Felicity was winning.  Oh, _yes_ , she was.

“ _Sunshine_ ,” Oliver groaned and Felicity could hear the indecision.  His body and his brain were at war.  He just needed to give in.  Didn’t he realize there no good reason to fight this?  “We’re going to be all right.  We don’t have to—”

That earned him another sharp nip (to his Adam’s apple this time) as Felicity pressed against him and yanked at his hair, trying to pull his lips back down so they could stop talking and start _doing_.

But…goddamn their height difference.  Most of the time it was sexy as hell, but it made it damn hard to be dominant.   That was so much easier with a bed, then Felicity could just climb on top…

Oh _god_ , Felicity’s eyes rolling back into her head as all the images and memories she had been suppressing for years flooded back.  A moan fell from her lips.  So, _so_ many things she missed, that she wanted… _needed_ to do again.  So many ways to _reconnect_.  So _very_ many ways.

And a bed was necessary for very few of them.  So, yeah, Felicity was waiting for one over her dead body…

Seriously, Felicity needed to stop using that phrase.  Even in her head.  No more tempting fate.

Felicity finally succeeded in tugging Oliver’s lips back into kissing distance and she swallowed his protests.  His words turned into a groan and she sucked his tongue into her mouth.  It was rather effective way of distracting him. 

Oliver let out another low growl that vibrated through every single _one_ of Felicity’s nerve endings.  She was pretty sure that was what surrender sounded like. 

Cupping Felicity’s ass, Oliver lifted her, pulling her closer and…

Oh. 

_Well, then_.  

There was one part of Oliver that was _very_ ready to surrender. 

Felicity threw an arm around Oliver neck and a leg around his hip and did her very best to climb him like a tree.  And the very hard, very impressive ridge pressed against her tummy seemed rather eager to let her. 

Still, it also seemed the rest of Oliver (all the annoying thinky parts) wanted to slow down.  His hand moved in firm measured caresses, a sharp contrast to Felicity’s frantic groping.   He wouldn’t be drawn into a battle for dominance.  Instead, his lips and tongue were doing their best to gentle her.

It might very well be working too.  Because _damn_ it was good.  Addictive even.  And honestly Felicity didn’t care if it was fast and hard or slow and thorough.   She didn’t care who dominated and who surrendered.  As long as as it _was_.  

Oliver could do whatever he wanted, however he wanted.  As long as he _kept going_. 

And those long strong strokes of Oliver’s rough hands as they slid under her shirt and over her back, of his tongue against hers…they made Felicity feel wanted.  Adored.

This.  _This_ was what Felicity wanted.   Now and always.   For however long they had.

Without her even realizing it, he had managed to chase all the worries and _thoughts_ from her head until Felicity was floating in a beautiful Oliver-induced haze, filled with his taste and his smell, the texture of skin against her fingertips as her fingers crept into the collar of his shirt.

“Felicity?” Oliver pulled back just enough to breathe her name against her lips before trailing kisses across her face to reach her ear and whisper, “I’m not going to let you die down here.  I promise you that.”

Great.   Just when Oliver succeeded in making reality disappear, he had to go and call it back.  Damn him and his beautiful promises that weren’t his to make.

Gripping his hair, Felicity yanked until they were nose-to-nose, practically growling, “First of all… _us_.”   She tried for a lip nip to emphasize her point, but it may or may not have ended up as more of a kiss. “If you’re getting anyone out of here you had better plan on it being _both_ of us.  From here on out, buster, we’re a package deal.  You understand?”

“God, yes!”  Oliver’s lips slammed back into Felicity with more force than she was expecting. 

But she liked.  Boy, did Felicity like.  Maybe Oliver was finally convinced.  She was in serious danger of spontaneously combusting if there were any more delays.

“And the second thing?” Oliver asked it against Felicity’s lips and, god, wasn’t there something better he could… _should_ be doing with those lips than forming words?  Also…

“Huh?”  Felicity had absolutely no idea what Oliver was talking about.  Was she supposed to?  She rolled her hips against his and he let out a groan.  Yup, _that’s_ where her thoughts were at the moment.

But then Felicity was rewarded (or punished, hard to say which) when Oliver’s groan turned into a husky chuckle.  She felt that husky sound right in her clit as he pushed her more fully against the wall.  His weight was wonderful…until she realized it was restricting her movement so it was harder to rub against him. 

Sneaky bastard.

Oliver rubbed his nose against hers and grinned.  “You said ‘first,’ that implies a ‘second.’”

Lovely.  Since when was Oliver the semantics police?  The last thing Felicity wanted to do was debate the use of language, but…oh…oh, yeah, she _did_ have a ‘second’ point.

“I don’t care,” Felicity burst out, proud she found the thought before her brain went to total moosh.

“What?”  Oliver chuckled, looking a little incredulous and confused, though entertained.  He was looking at Felicity like the greatest puzzle he had ever tried to solve.

“Well, of course, I _care_ ,” Felicity corrected.  “I care that we make it out of here.  I want to live _with you_ like…forever.  But right here, right now, in this moment, it doesn’t matter if we have two more days or a century.  Right now, my love, I’m done waiting.  I want to savor every second we have.  _Now_.”

“ _Fuck_ , Felicity,” Oliver groaned it and he was the only man on earth who could swear and make it sound like a prayer.

But maybe he was worshipping _her_.  Felicity’s body thought so, because just when she thought she couldn’t get more aroused it ratcheted up another notch or three.  Then there was the way Oliver’s head fell back, his lashes fluttering as if he were struggling to keep them open.

He was still thinking too much.  Felicity really needed to help him with that.  Tightening the leg she’d wound around Oliver’s thigh, she pulled him closer while latching her lips around the Adam’s apple he had so generous exposed to her. 

Oliver moaned and pushed into her touch, one hand coming up to gently cradle her head.  “Baby…baby, are you _sure_?”  He was hanging by a thread.  One more thread and they’d be there.  “Sure you want to do this _here_?” 

“If by _this_ ,” Felicity murmured, making sure her lips and tongue grazed his skin while she spoke, “you mean, you and me?  Anyway?  Anyhow?  Then _yes_.  I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

It was dramatic, yes.  Didn’t make it any less true.

“ _Fuck_!” Oliver’s shoulders sagged as he lost the final battle.  That last thread snapped and his eyes fell closed.  Felicity could see the muscles of his chest move as breathed fast and deep.  But the tension was gone.

Yup, that did it.

Oliver was done fighting her… _them_.

Grabbing her ass more securely, Oliver hoisted her up.  Felicity tried not to look smug as she moved with him, her arms winding around his shoulders, leveraging herself.  She even gave a little hop and then both of her legs were around his waist and his cock was notched in the most perfect place and her back was pressed against the smooth wall.

Felicity took a moment to wonder at how smoothly, how _easily_ they moved together.  Still.  Of course, it helped to have a boyfriend who was built like a god, with the strength and agility of warrior. 

Boyfriend.  Oliver was her _boyfriend_ again. 

Felicity let that thought ricochet around her head for a while as Oliver captured her lips once more. 

Oliver was her _boyfriend_.  It was wonderful and yet so woefully inadequate to express everything that he was to her. 

Right now he also her conqueror, since he had very much turned the aggressor.  And Felicity was so okay with that.  Very, _very_ okay.  Oliver tilted his head and urged her lips as wide as they could go so he could explore every inch of her mouth.  God, the man could kiss.  Those wide, open-mouthed kisses…Felicity swore they melted her bones. 

Then Oliver slid his hands up her thighs (cause, _nope_ , the man did not need hands to hold her off the ground) and inside the legs of her shorts, teasing the delicate skin on the inside of thighs until they found and grazed her _very_ damp panties.  If this was what it felt like to be conquered by him, then he could do it any damn time he wanted.  Bring on the vanquishing.

Felicity jerked and cried out as Oliver’s thumb dragged along her folds.  Even over her panties the sensation was intense.  How long had it been since she had felt this way?  Since someone had touched her like this?  Even herself?

Felicity knew the answer.  It came as easy as breathing.

Five years, three months, and fifteen days.

For once the count didn’t come with a wave of despair.  The draught was finally over and her only dilemma was figuring out a way to keep from coming from this alone.  Felicity’s sex starved… _Oliver_ starved body was on a hair trigger. 

And Felicity so wanted to come _with_ him.  With Oliver inside her.  It brought tears to her eyes just thinking about how much she wanted Oliver _inside_ her. 

Felicity didn’t even care if she came.  She just craved the connection, the bonding.  It had been too damn long and she missed it so much.  That full and complete intimacy of making love with her…soulmate. 

Yes, that was what Oliver was.  Felicity’s _soulmate_.  Finally, an adequate word.

Rapidly becoming delirious from his touch, struggling to find the words to tell him she wanted him deep inside her as soon as possible…Felicity was completely stunned when Oliver wrenched his lips away and took a step back. 

“What… _no_ …?” Felicity reached for him, but Oliver evaded her, pulling her legs away so she fell limply against the wall.  “What are _doing_?”  She knew she was whining and she didn’t even care. 

Felicity might even have panicked if Oliver didn’t send her a smile.  A happy excited so-very-turned-on smile.  “Forgot something.”

And while Felicity could happy watch that expression for the rest of her life…why the hell wasn’t Oliver _touching_ her?

Then, before Felicity could get her remaining brain cells to communicate with her voice-box in something resembling a productive manner, Oliver grabbed her waist band, quickly and deftly undoing the snaps, pulling down the zipper and…

Oh.  Okay.  _This_ Felicity was fine with.  Nakedness was important.  In fact, achieving it was the only acceptable reason for any space between their bodies. 

“Good thinking,” she breathed, since she hadn’t developed the magical ability to make her shorts disappear with their limbs tangled together. Though that was some magic Felicity could get behind.  Why didn’t the stone do something useful like promote nakedness?   

Even without magic, Oliver was pretty damn efficient and before Felicity knew it her shorts were tangled around one of her boots and Oliver was grabbing her less-covered ass and hauling her back up against the wall.

And, while Felicity very much appreciated the impatience, maybe they should have taken another minute to get rid of the _rest_ of their clothes.  In the interest of that efficiency of his.

Oliver looked as desperate as Felicity now and seemed to be quickly approaching that mindless lust stage.  God, she hoped so.

And this _was_ better.  So much better, really.  The loss of that one thick layer of fabric.  Now so only her panties and his shorts separated her core from his (so very) hard cock.  God, it felt amazing.  But, _damn,_ his shorts needed to go as well.  Her panties were easily shoved out of the way, but those shorts...she didn’t even need them totally off.  Around his ankles would do just fine.

Oliver’s lips sought hers again and, as one, their lips parted and their heads tilted and they sank back into the mating of their tongues and…yup, full nakedness could wait.  Frak, Felicity needed him _now_. 

Even with his shorts on, Oliver managed to line up his cock perfectly and… _wow_ , Felicity had forgotten how big he was.  How had she forgotten?  He was the only man she had even _seen_ in eight years.  And…

Oh god.  Oh wow.

Mmmmmmm.

Oliver’s size wasn’t the only thing Felicity had forgotten.

Maybe that was a good thing.  If Felicity had truly remembered the full extent of the pleasure Oliver gave her…she didn’t know how she would have functioned.

Every time Oliver moved this hips in those small grinding circles, so reminiscent of the full-on sex Felicity _wished_ they were having, it pushed on her clit in the most delicious way.  The zipper sliding against her soaked panties and the heat behind it and…

Felicity swore she was seeing stars with every small movement of his incredible body.  She clutched his shoulders and, god, Oliver’s eyes…the pupils were huge, the ring of blue thin and dark, yet still striking in the golden light of the room.   

Pulling back just enough to suck in a quick lung full of air, Felicity breathed, “ _Oliver_.” But only for a second and then they were back to having their lips pressed so close together it shoved her glasses askew, digging into both of their faces. 

But that was totally fine.  Felicity couldn’t care less for the niceties of removing glasses and boots.  That could wait for next time.  Right now, she was more than content. 

Though Felicity could be _more_ content.  And not all of Oliver’s clothing required them detangling to remove. 

Felicity went to grab the hem of Oliver’s shirt and almost laughed when she realized he was still wearing his quiver.  She probably would have if his tongue wasn’t in her mouth.  But that goddamn quiver had to go and there was no way that she was going to be able to undo the fastening without looking. 

Tearing away from the kiss, Felicity put all her focus on the stupid buckle, fighting the slight tremor in her hands.  She was fine with shoving clothing out of the way, but she had to draw the line at arrows being strapped to his back while they made love.

But, dammit, the way Oliver found her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, was not helping her concentration.  At all.  When his tongue started to work her piercings and she had no idea how the hell he expected her to do _anything_ but whimper and moan.   In a sexy way, of course.  She hoped.

Then Oliver doubled down _again_ , moving to the delicate patch of skin behind her ear that made Felicity light-headed.  She was moaning almost continuously now.  She could tell, because unlike the rest of the tunnel, the sound echoed around them.  And the sound only seemed to spur him on. 

Miraculously, the buckle slipped free and it was a testimony to how far gone Oliver was that he didn’t even flinch when Felicity tossed his precious quiver to the ground.  She didn’t have the patience, or the coordination, to lower it gently.  She needed his skin and she needed it now.

Felicity yanked up his shirt even more roughly, only to get distracted as her fingers found those beautiful _scrumptious_ abs.  They rippled under her hands and Felicity watched through half-closed lids, her head tipped to the side as Oliver’s mouth and tongue and teeth worked her neck.  God, _yesss_ …

Okay.  Focus here.  Shirt… _off_.

Dragging her fingers up his abdomen, over his pecs, Felicity had to remind herself over and over not to get distracted by the skin she revealed.  She mustn’t have succeeded, because Oliver took over, yanking the shirt over his head and throwing it out of sight fast enough to make her breath catch and her mouth dry.

But, damn, that was impressive.  Because Felicity’s feet were nowhere near the ground and she didn’t slip an inch as Oliver discarded his shirt.  Then there was his taut sweat-slickened skin.  It appeared even more golden in this light and her mouth was drawn to it like a moth to the flame. 

God, Oliver tasted even better than she remembered and this was just his upper body.  Felicity couldn’t wait to taste all of him.   

Alternating licking and sucking, Felicity’s mouth explored his shoulders and collarbone as her fingers dragged over his nipples (eliciting a groan against her skin) and traced their way over that eight pack.  She wanted to move her lips lower, but she couldn’t in that position. 

And Felicity _loved_ this position. 

She contented herself with following the line of Oliver’s throat as his head fell back, his mouth finally leaving her skin as he exposed his strong neck for her mouth.  But just when she thought she could finally concentrate on him, his hands were under her shirt and…

Oliver’s calloused finger tips dragged up her sides and Felicity’s already strained focus took another hit, but it was when those talented hands closed over her breasts that she was done.

Done done done.  Focus what focus?  Coordination?  Ha!

Because Felicity had never gotten around to putting her bra back on.  Maybe that had been wishfully thinking on her part.  And it seemed that she was actually getting her wish.  For once.

Maybe Felicity’s luck was finally turning.  How wonderful would _that_ be?

Her head fell back with a thunk against the stone wall, but she didn’t even feel it.  Oliver’s fingers closed around Felicity’s nipples and rolled, sending shocks of pleasure throughout her body, radiating from his fingers and running straight to her core and… _everywhere_ else. 

It overwhelmed all other sensations.   All Felicity could feel was the pleasure Oliver gave her.

Wow.  So wow.  Five years.  How could she have forgotten?

Felicity could feel her face go slack, all those fine muscles releasing as her eyes rolled back into her head.

“You are _so_ beautiful,” Oliver’s scratchy rumble of a whisper rasped directly into her ear, sending even more pleasure cascading through her.  His lips, again, latched onto that place right behind her ear she (and he) loved so much, sucking…

“Mmmmhh,” was all Felicity could manage.  It seemed her loss of coordination extended to her tongue as well.

But Oliver made her feel too good, on too many levels for Felicity to not at least _try_ to return the favor.  To at least let him know what he did to her.

Felicity weaved one hand into his hair.  The other drew inelegant circles on his shoulder blades as she tried to form words.  All that came out was, “Missed you.  So much… _Ol-i-ver_ …”

It must have been enough for him, because Oliver growled deep in his chest and dove back in for a kiss that made Felicity’s toes curl, even if it was damn hard to find the motor control to kiss him back. 

Every time Oliver’s thumbs flicked over the tips of her nipples, and they flicked them both in _tandem_ , because the damn man _never_ lost his coordination…Felicity’s breath stuttered, her mouth went slack, and a wordless cry burst out only to be swallowed by the mouth over hers. 

When Oliver’s mouth pulled away, Felicity tried to follow, moaning in protest, but she couldn’t manage it.  His damn talented fingers kept right on driving her _insane_. 

Felicity blinked her eyes open to see Oliver’s lips curve up in a lazy smile, almost a smirk.  It didn’t last long enough to really qualify as such, despite the utter confidence he radiated.  Ah well, at least it was well deserved confidence.  And sexy as hell to boot.

Their eyes met and the promise that flashed in those blue depths stole her breath (what little she had left of it).  Then before Felicity knew what was happening, she was being lifted, pushed further up the wall, her shirt following until she felt Oliver’s breath on her breasts.

Instinctively, Felicity lifted her arms, waiting for him to remove her shirt, but instead, Oliver just moaned, “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ ,” before his mouth closed over her breast, enveloping as much of her flesh as he could.

Felicity screamed. 

Well, she thought she did.  Something wordless and primal escaped her mouth.  Whatever it was, it seemed to please Oliver immensely because his answering groan vibrated over her flesh as his tongue flicked one nipple and his hand the other.

Dear heaven, how did Oliver manage to do so many things at once?  And so _well_?

No wonder Felicity hadn’t been interested in doing this with another man.  _No one_ could ever compare to Oliver Queen.  How did you go back to a mere mortal, after you had been loved by a god?

It was almost _too much_.  Like all the sexual feelings Felicity should have felt over the last five plus years had caught up with her and she was feeling them all at once.  Her only saving grace was that when Oliver had pushed her up to get his mouth on her breast, her soaked panties had settled against his abs, dragging against the ridges and, _damn_ , if that wasn’t hot. 

Had Felicity said that was her saving grace?  Nope, that was going to be her down fall.  She was so damn close to the edge.  Especially with his cock _right there_ , the tip pushing against her, through the layers of clothing.  As if would and _could_ burst free and, by the sheer power of its will, find the haven it longed for.

If only it would.

Felicity was close.  Damn close.  And so very ready to have her first orgasm in ages.  Her first _Oliver_ Orgasm and…

But…

No.  Felicity wanted Oliver to be inside her when she came.  This one time at least.  This… _so important_ and special and milestone-y time, she needed him inside her. 

_Right now_!

Felicity was so very ready to have Oliver inside her, filling her, stretching her with that beautiful cock that she hadn’t even seen in far too long and maybe she was a tiny bit nervous about his size, but it didn’t matter.  Not even a little.

All Felicity had to do was find the will, and the coordination, to do or say something to make Oliver understand….

“Ahhghhh… _Oliver_ …”

Just as Felicity was starting to find words, Oliver added another layer to his assault on _all_ of her senses by moving the hand that had been cupping her ass under the hem of her panties…the hem where her thigh met her ass and…dear _god_ …

Oliver’s fingertips skimmed her folds, dipping inside, groaning when he found what Felicity knew he would…that she was _soaking_ wet.  “Sunshine,” she thought he moaned, but his tongue was on her nipple so it was hard to tell.

His thumb inched up to her clit, his mouth taking a long deep draw on her nipple and…Felicity was going to _explode_.  It the moment, she really wouldn’t be surprised if she literally combusted.  And what a fraking  fantastic way to go.

But if Felicity wanted Oliver inside her, this was quickly becoming a speak now or forever hold her piece scenario.   

So…speak.  Goddamnit, Felicity, _speak_!

“Oli-vi-errrrr…uhh uhh…”

Yeah, that wasn’t exactly what Felicity’s had in mind.  For someone who usually had an overabundance of words, it was amazing how hard this was.  Oliver chuckled around her nipple and sank two fingers knuckle deep and…

“Wait!”

That made Oliver pause.  His mouth left her breast and he looked up at her with confused and oh-so-lust filled eyes.

Voice, don’t fail her now. 

“Wait…together…I…wait…”

Um, yeah, that wasn’t much better.

Oliver smiled.  Then shaking his head, he murmured, “Soon,” before his mouth, again, fell to the top curve of her breast, making its way to the opposite nipple and…

And Felicity could do nothing but shake her head, rolling it over the wall, trying to breathe, fighting herself, struggling not to fall over the edge, attempting to explain, “Inside…need you...inside…first time....”

And as inarticulate as it was, Felicity was proud she’d managed so many actual words. 

Except Oliver’s only response was to rub his stubble against her skin as his laughter reverberated against her. “Soon,” he murmured.   _Again_.  

Clearly, Oliver wasn’t grasping the urgency here.  Of all times for Felicity to lose the ability to communicate. 

Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Giving up on her voice, Felicity reached down and was surprised at how deftly she was able to undo Oliver’s shorts.  Motivation was a beautiful thing.  She shoved aside his boxers with very little fuss and whole lot of enthusiasm.

Then Felicity was finally able to get her hand on him.  Not all the way down to the root, she was too high for that, but enough for her hand to close around him, right under the tip, and for her to marvel at the velvety warmth.

Oliver went still and… _finally_ his coordination faltered, his groans became louder and his mouth lost its seal on her breast.   “ _Felicity_ …”

It was her turn to smirk now.  And, damn, it was wonderful.  Felicity managed a shallow pump and Oliver’s groan ended in a growl, his grip faltering.

It allowed Felicity to slide lower on the wall, her body dragging along Oliver’s and, frak, if the friction didn’t make her eyes roll back into her head.  She managed to maintain her grip on his cock, though, and that was what was really important. 

“Baby, you gotta stop,” Oliver moaned.  The desperate edge to his voice was the sweetest sound Felicity had heard since…well, the last time she’d heard it. “I’m not gonna last.”

“ _Good_ ,” Felicity blurted and was surprised to find her voice working again.  “Need you… _inside_.  Right the frak now.”

Wow.  Those were almost sentences.  Go her.

Oliver shook his head, perspiration beading his forehead.  He looked as delirious as Felicity felt.  That was good too.  Great even. 

Except, then Oliver argued, “No.  You first.”

Okay, they were definitely having a communication problem here. 

Felicity shook her head, trying to outdo him with the vehemence of her, “ _No_ , I—”

When Oliver tried to pull her hand from his cock, Felicity resisted.  They grappled a moment, leaving them both breathless and laughing.   But, _of course_ , Oliver won.  He was Oliver.  His strength was ten times hers and his agility pretty damn close. 

Felicity found herself even more cleanly pinned, both of her hands pressed to the wall next to her head, entwined with Oliver’s.  Though, what he planned to do with both of his hands occupied, she had no idea.  And as hot as this was...

“What now, big boy?” Felicity taunted, raising an eyebrow, because somewhere in the wrestling match she’d regained her wits, though god knows how.  

But Oliver didn’t seem even remotely ready to admit he’d miscalculated. He just gripped her hands tighter and smiled his most wicked smile and…grinded his hips into Felicity’s in slow steady circles and…

Godd _amn_ it.  Oliver was most definitely winning.

Was he seriously going for a dry hump orgasm?  Because that was what was going to happen if Oliver kept this up and…

Ohhhh…

Oh wow…

_God_ …

Felicity was starting to care less and less.  Did she really _need_ to come with Oliver inside her?  Maybe, she’d enjoy it more if the edge had taken off.  He’d be inside soon enough and then…

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity pleaded, one last attempt to make him see reason.

Of _course_ , Oliver just grinned, his hips continuing their slow grinding rhythm, his cock pressing directly against her panties now, against her clit and…his lips slammed back onto hers. 

What else was she to do?  Her brain was short circuiting and Felicity was having a really hard time remembering what she was even protesting.

Felicity saw stars.

Oliver’s tongue was entwined with hers as completely as their fingers and the pleasure…it wasn’t something she could or even wanted to fight.  This might not be her first choice but…

Then Felicity was falling.

Literally.

Not metaphorically.  _Literally_.

The wall Felicity had been leaning against just…disappeared.  

Felicity fell backwards, her mouth disengaging from Oliver’s as she let out a cry that was not from pleasure.

Throwing her arms around his neck as he staggered backward, Felicity’s eyes snapped open and her legs clamped reflectively around his hips.  Only Oliver’s quick reflexes kept him from landing on her.  He flipped them, so he landed on the ground with her on top and she wasn’t sure if she was grateful for having been spared the blow or irritated that he had taken it for her.

Before Felicity could even ask Oliver if he was okay, he lifted her off of him and was scrambling into the now wide-open hole in the wall, grabbing his shirt and her shorts, his quiver and… _everything else_ , pulling them out of the tunnel.

Felicity had no idea how he knew it was important to do so, but _thank god_ for his quick thinking because no sooner had he scrambled out again that…

The wall was back.

Solid and whole.  As if there’d never been an opening at all.

“Holy…” Oliver breathed, but Felicity was too stunned to speak.  He pressed his hands against the re-formed wall, confirming that it was once again there and…

What the frak?

Either Felicity really _was_ crazy and hallucinating this entire thing or…

It was becoming harder and harder to deny the reality of magic.

Felicity collapsed onto her back, trying to catch her breath and was surprised to find that she wasn’t on the hard-packed dirt she’d become used to, but on a soft bed of moss.  What was more, she was staring up through an enormous hole in the ceiling.  Into the bright sunlight.

Coming up on to her elbows, Felicity’s eyes flew over her surroundings, attempting to gain her bearings. 

They were in an enormous…cave? 

Yes, it was a cave, except the only obvious way out up.  And only a few feet next to her was a deep and fathomless pool.  Felicity heard rushing in her ears…it wasn’t internal.  Not this time.  There was a tall waterfall, cascading into the blue green pool from high in the rock wall.  Vines, peppered with leaves and even a few small flowers hung from the opening above.

Wow.  Oh wow oh wow oh wow.

Not a cave.  Not exactly.  It was a sink hole. 

A _cenote_. 

The sacred wells of the Mayans.  

There were thousands of cenotes just like this on the Yucatan coast where a complex system of underwater rivers led to the ocean.  Felicity hadn’t thought they extended this far west but, _god_ , it was beautiful. 

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry about HIVE getting through _that_ ,” Oliver breathed, his eyes still on the wall they had fallen through.

Felicity still wasn’t sure she should rule out this all being a dream.  Her mind was spinning and her body still humming and…

Suddenly Oliver was over her again, his arms extended on either side of her head as he straddled her. 

It made Felicity, “Meep,” and Oliver laughed out loud as he grinned down at her. 

That was when Felicity realized her body was still very much on the edge of that precipice of ecstasy, where it had been so rudely interrupted by the wall deciding to temporarily disappear.

“So…it seems your sun god agrees with me,” Oliver teased and…

What was he talking about?  Felicity really didn’t think he meant their jaguar.  But, damn, Oliver was even more gorgeous than their surroundings and that might be muddling her thoughts.  The sunshine behind his head made it look like he was wearing a halo.

And his grin was so flirtatious Felicity couldn’t help but smile back and say, “That so?” Because Oliver in this mood was damn near irritable.

“Yup.  I knew a dark hole in the ground wasn’t good enough for you.”  Oliver’s grin was starting to make Felicity dizzy.  And his words.  God, his _words_.   

Felicity shook her head, her smile giddy.  Oliver hadn’t wanted to make love in that dark tunnel and…well, it looked like they were both going to get their wish. 

Her eyes were, once again, drawn to the gorgeous surroundings.  It was nothing short of… _magical_.  In that moment, she could almost believe Oliver (or her sun god) had conjured up the most beautiful place on earth for their reunion. 

When she looked back into Oliver’s bright eyes, Felicity found herself teasing, “Is this to your satisfaction?”

“It’ll do,” Oliver murmured, just before his mouth once again descended to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you will forgive the wait for a love scene.  After all the buildup I felt we needed an epic location and a private Cenote fit the bill.
> 
> For anyone who has not been to one, I’m putting up pictures **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/173431386340/addition-content-for-to-sacrifice-the-sun-chapter).**
> 
> Cenotes are really a huge underground river system in the Yucatán Peninsula.  Some of them are underwater caves, where you can go cave diving, and others are truly sink holes, with beautiful pools, partially exposed to the surface.  The Mayans did consider them sacred (but more on the later).
> 
> The area Felicity and Oliver are in is a little south-west for cenotes (and the Mayans), but not out of the realm of possibilities.
> 
> Thank you to  **mariposablue9, Imusuallyobsessed** , and  **Ireland1733**  for _everything_.   Between issues with trolls and the second half of Season Six being unwatchable, it’s hard to stay motivated.  These three ladies (and a fascinating lecture series on the ancient Mayans ) are what’s keeping me going.


	24. Chapter 23: The Cenote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is _long_ and very much earns this story’s “E” rating.   I sailed right by my usual cut off of 12K but it would be a travesty to split it.  I had planned to post shorter, less detailed, “M” rated version on fanfic.net, but that has been put on hold due to my annoyance at not being able to block annons and the fact that it’s a lot of work to de-smuttify this chapter. 
> 
> Let me know if that is something you would really like.  I don’t want to do it unless there is enough interest.
> 
> **Trigger Warnings and Disclaimers:** for frank talks of infertility, hysterectomies, and the physical and mental pains that go along with it.  There are also some pretty intense possessive feelings expressed and if that is an issue for you, you might want to skip. 
> 
> Also, Felicity refers to feeling “broken” when she could not feel sexual desire after her trauma.  This is the way I believe she _would_ _feel_ in this situation.  I do not believe anyone identifying as Asexual or Ace is “broken” (though I imagine they have all felt that way at some point in time).  This is a very different situation, but if you think that might trigger you, please skip this chapter.  
> 
> If there any warnings you think I should include let me know.  They last thing I want is to upset anyone.
> 
> Either way, I _really_ hope you enjoy this.  It’s been a long time coming and we’ve been working super hard on this one.   
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found **[here.](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)**
> 
> Find “Previously on…” chapter summaries **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/173649126160/previously-on-to-sacrifice-the-sun-2018).**.

_September 19, 2016_  
_11:04_  
_The Cenote_  
_The Southern tip of the Sierra Madre_

__

Oliver bracketed his hands on other side of Felicity’s head and the grin he gave her, just before his lips captured hers, had her head swimming.

Felicity smiled and felt his lips curve against hers.  And Oliver’s eyes, even they were smiling.  She only had a brief moment to appreciate it before they slipped closed as he relaxed into the kiss.

But Felicity couldn’t quite make herself close _her_ eyes.  Usually she couldn’t keep them open if she wanted to, but even though Oliver’s lips were as heavenly as they’d ever been and they deserved her full focus…

Looking up at the sunlight trickling through the ceiling, bouncing off the waterfall and the fine mist in the air, it made the air around Oliver’s face…almost _sparkle_.  It was strange and magical, something straight out of a fantasy novel.  Too unreal to even capture on film.

Only this was real.  Incredibly vividly senses alive with the sound of music…real.

And the scene around her, it felt like a physical manifestation of everything Felicity was feeling.  Pleasure and happiness and love and…and _relief._  Relief was so intense she was dizzy with it.

They were no longer trapped.  The hole in the ceiling wouldn’t be easy to get through, but Felicity had complete confidence Oliver and his grappling arrow.   They had an endless supply of water and sunshine.  They had food to eat and…

Oliver was in her arms.  His lips were moving against hers.  His legs pressed to hers.  Felicity could taste him and smell him and even hear his breathing get heavier and heavier.  And what was more…

The future was theirs. 

There was nothing else in the great big universe Felicity needed.  Or even wanted.

Cupping Oliver’s head, Felicity ran her thumbs over his cheeks, relishing the feel of the stubble, the texture.  Every sensation was bliss.   Proof of how real this all was. 

This kiss was so much less desperate than the ones they had shared only minutes before in the tunnel and, even though her body was quickly reminding her of how very much she needed this, Felicity adored the slow slide of Oliver’s lips over hers.  The way his tongue peeked out to tease without fully engaging hers.

Felicity could happy stay here forever. 

Oliver lowered his weight until Felicity could feel every inch of him above her, his chest pressing against her tight nipples, the long firm lines of his body wonderfully heavy on hers, the soft moss against her back…it was everything she needed.  It was heaven.

But then…

Heaven left.

Oliver’s weight was gone faster than it came and Felicity was left blinking up at the cave above them.  The sudden loss of sensation had her feeling strange.  Like she was trapped in a dream.

Oh dear god, please don’t let this be a dream.  That would be crueler than the one last night where she was  trapped and burning alive.    

Felicity rolled her head along the moss, calling, “Oliver?”

He was sitting at her hip and Felicity allowed her instincts to take over and reached out her hand, settling it on Oliver’s knee.

Warm skin.  Firm muscle.  Coarse hair. 

Seemed real enough.

She hoped.

Oliver smiled, looking breathless and disheveled as he deftly pulled at the laces of his boots.

_Oh_.  Okay. 

That was _totally_ okay.

Though, Oliver really needed to warn her about these little breaks for clothing removal.  Felicity was onboard with them ( _obviously_ ), but their abruptness was going to give her a heart attack.  Hello, anxiety disorder here.

Before Felicity could get herself together enough to sit up and attempt to remove her own boots, Oliver’s had been discarded, along with his socks, and he was standing, looking so fraking gorgeous and…

Felicity reached for him, boots be damned.  Besides, maybe _he’d_ like to be the one to take off her...

But Oliver didn’t so much as glance Felicity’s way.  Instead he strode to the edge of the sinkhole, staring down at the water, his back to her…

It was an _awfully_ beautiful back.

But still…what the frak?

Two minutes ago, Oliver was telling her this was the perfect place to make love and now he was…actually, Felicity had no friggen clue what he was doing.

“What are you _doing_?”

Because the best way to get an answer was to ask the question, right?  And if tone was just a little bit irritated, that was just because…Felicity was, well, _irritated_. 

Felicity’s head was still swimming and certain parts of her anatomy throbbing, and not having Oliver’s hands on her…it felt a little like her body was going through withdrawal.

Oliver threw her a grin over his shoulder, saying in a far to innocent tone, “I’m checking out the Cenote.”

Felicity’s mouth fell open because…seriously?  The Cenote was pretty and all, sure.  

But _sex_. 

Orgasms. 

Five years, three months, and _fifteen fraking days_. 

Felicity didn’t know if she could make it to sixteen without spontaneously combusting and Oliver was…taking in the scenery?

“But…er…we were busy _here_.” Felicity might have sputtered, but there was no way to misinterpret her tone. 

Felicity was _not_ happy with the turn of events and the unresolved sexual tension was no longer ‘delicious’.  It was _torture._  It was also quickly robbing her of the ability to be patient with the damnable idiot she was in love with.

But that gorgeous idiot’s grin just widened and Felicity would swear he liked it when she got sassy.  Or maybe he just enjoyed torturing her.

Standing there, half-naked with the rays of light filtering through the vines, Oliver didn’t even look real.  He was a fantasy come to life.  A male incubus come to lure her into danger.  And sin.

Then those damn dimples came out.  Felicity couldn’t resist those _damn dimples_ and the bastard knew it.  She might be even more vulnerable to them now.  Happy Oliver had become her kryptonite.  Even _if_ the thing he was happy about was tormenting her.

Then Oliver started to push his shorts down over his hips and her mouth watered.  Or did it go dry?  Felicity couldn’t even tell.

And the way he held her eyes and pealed off his shorts…Oliver was _definitely_ torturing her.  On purpose.  Felicity was sure of it.  He was punishing her for all their years apart with this… _delirious_ anticipation.

There were worse punishments.

Though, at the moment, Felicity couldn’t think what they were.

“Oh, we certainly _are_ busy,” Oliver intoned and the innuendo in his voice was a thing of beauty.  

Wait.  No, it wasn’t.  It was _annoying_ , god damn it! 

“Not over _there_ we’re not,” Felicity threw back, leaning back on her elbows and throwing him her best withering glare. 

Oliver’s eyes twinkled with mischief.  Yup, he liked it when she churlish too, the weird-ass man. 

Fine.  Whatever. Felicity supposed she could wait if Oliver was going to go and be all adorable and playful and _happy_ on her.

For a few minutes anyway. 

“Only because _you_ are still over _there_ ,” Oliver tossed back.  Then his shorts (and boxers) we on the ground and Felicity had a little trouble processing _._

Processing anything _except_ for the fact that Oliver was suddenly standing there is his _full_ naked glory.

And, _god_ , was it glorious.  Five years ago, Oliver was the perfect male specimen. So Felicity had no idea how he’d managed to improve it, but he had.  His shoulders were wider.  All those strong, flawlessly defined muscles were just… _more_. 

Even the tattoos and scars that decorated him were gorgeous.   Badges of honor that proclaimed him the finest of warriors.  The Mayans certainly wouldn’t object to Oliver’s right to stand on the bank of their Cenote and swim in their sacred waters.  Michelangelo, himself, couldn’t have created a finer specimen.

Though, poor Michelangelo never imagined a cock like _that_.

And Felicity couldn’t possibly hold any doubt in Oliver’s interest in sexy-times with it standing so tall, almost brushing his belly button, and…large enough to make a girl weep.  With both anticipation and fear.

While Felicity was most definitely feeling the first, she couldn’t say there wasn’t a touch of the second.  It had been a long fricken time.

“Felicity…?  _Felicity_?”

Gulping, she realized Oliver had been calling her name for…well, Felicity had no idea how long, but it was enough to embarrass her and stroke his ego (which, when it came to sex and his body, was beyond healthy). 

But, still, “Hmmm?” was the best Felicity could manage as she forced her eyes to Oliver’s face. 

Damn him and his cocky grin.

“Felicity, _Sunshine_ …take off your clothes.”  Oliver deep raspy command set her clit throbbing with a fresh wave of arousal. 

But then his words hit her and then…a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach.  A tight clamping in her chest and Felicity realized with a sudden clarity…

Felicity didn’t want Oliver to see her naked. 

At least, not the way _he_ was naked.  Standing there, on display, in the bright sunlight for Oliver to inspect every inch of Felicity’s body.

It was one thing to have passionate, hurried sex in a dark cave but…well, frantic removal of clothing when pressed so tightly together he only caught glimpses of her skin was very different.  The shadows alone in the tunnel were a security blanket, soft and warm and flattering.  But here, in these gorgeous _bright_ surroundings…

Oliver looked like he belonged here.  He was exquisite.

But Felicity was not. 

Never had been, really.  Not when compared to Oliver.

Felicity had always felt inferior in that regard.  Oliver was quick to reassure her how beautiful he found her and it was impossible not to believe he meant it.  He was just _that_ sincere.  Also, pretty damn persuasive with that sinful mouth of his.  And, yes, that innuendo was intentional. 

But now, well, Felicity was skinner and less toned, but she wasn’t so vain and insecure that that would have stopped her from stripping down in front of him.  Oliver loved her despite her faults.  She knew that.  He wouldn’t begrudge a little belly pouch.  But…

It was Felicity’s scars she didn’t want Oliver to see.

When that particular realization hit her, it left her lightheaded.  And not a little annoyed that she felt this way. It sounded insane, even in her own head, and she knew he would say the same.  Twenty percent of Oliver’s body was covered in scars and Felicity loved every single one of them.  She had her own (far less prevalent) scars from her field agent days and he had been never show the slightest indication that he was turned off by them.

But the bullet she’d taken in the shoulder for Sara (god, were all her bullet wound taken for someone else?  Was she a born martyr?), wasn’t even close to the ones she’d gotten in Tikal.

Felicity had a long scar under her belly button, a permanent bikini line from hip to hip, from where they had cut her open to do her surgery.  And, under that, there was a ragged mess caused by the horrible bullet that had ruined her life.

No.  That wasn’t true.  Her life wasn’t ruined and Felicity had to stop thinking that way.  She had _so much_ to look forward to.

But that didn’t mean that Felicity wanted to taint the first time she made love with Oliver again with the very ugly reminder of what had come between them.  Color it with another guilt-ridden and emotional discussion.

Still, they had decided to be honest with each other and hiding her body didn’t _feel_ honest.  Besides, Oliver would find it not only out of character, but a complete 180 after the way Felicity had tried to seduce him less than thirty minutes before. 

It would lead to questions.  Ones that would very likely lead to the exact conversation Felicity was trying so hard to avoid.

But then, before Felicity came to anything resembling a decision, Oliver turned and dove into the clear water of the cenote. After that all she could think was…

God _damn_ it! 

What the frak was wrong with him!

Oliver had no idea what he was diving into!  How deep the cenote was!  He could be was impaling himself on a fraking stalagmite for all her knew.  Damn, impetuous idiot!  

Felicity hoped it hurt like hell when the cold water hit that erection.

But not too much.  Felicity had _plans_ for that erection.  _Damn_ him. 

Felicity scrambled to her feet and over to the water edge, heart pounding.  Where _was_ he?  Oliver could have cracked open his skull with a dive like that.  She searched the water.  Or tried to.  With the way the angle of the sun was hitting the water, all she saw was her stupid reflection staring back at her.

She’d swear she wasn’t able to breathe until Oliver’s head broke the surface.  It felt like he had been underwater far longer than he should have.  But the asshat Felicity loved just grinned, a stupid shit-eating grin, and shook his head, spraying her with water as he asked, “Why are you still dressed?”

Seriously?

Felicity didn’t know what irritated her more, Oliver’s attitude or...actually, it was Oliver’s attitude.  That about summed up what she was agitated about.  It also made her feel a whole lot less guilty about hiding her scars.  It might be childish, but at that moment, she didn’t feel like he _deserved_ her nakedness.

 “What? I…errr…” Felicity sputtered her frustration.  Because really, Oliver?  _Really_? “I was a little distracted making sure you hadn’t kill yourself!”  

Which was… _mostly_ true.

“Well, I didn’t so….  Take.  Off.   Your.  Clothes.”  Oliver’s eyes gleamed with wicked promise and his tongue peeked out to wet his lips.  “So we can go back to being… _busy_.”  Then he _winked_ at her.  Winked.

Felicity hated how affected she was by that damn wink but…okay, scar-anxiety coming back.  She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled Oliver with a _look_.  “I don’t see how getting in the freezing cold water is conducive to what I had in mind.” 

Because if Oliver would just get the hell out there a kiss her, maybe he wouldn’t notice the scars until _after_.   They would be so much easier to deal with in the haze of afterglow.   For both of them. 

The bastard laughed out loud.  At least, Felicity could take comfort in the fact that he had yet to be suspicious of her…continued not-nudity.

“Oh don’t worry.  Nothing is going to make _that_ go away.”  That wasn’t what Felicity meant, but she wasn’t going to admit it.  And, lord, the mood Oliver was in.  It just might kill her.  “And actually, it’s pretty warm.  Come on…” Oliver trailed off, his focus shifting back to the pool as he swam forward. 

Then Oliver paused, frowning down at the water before he stopped and…stood up.  Stood in the waist deep water.

“ _See_!” Felicity screeched.  “There’s a reason they don’t allow diving in the shallow end of the pool, Oliver.  If your fool head had hit—”

“Do you think those glow balls are water proof?”  Oliver interrupted, still frowning down at the water.  He was deflecting.  Idiot _knew_ she was right. “Throw me one, will you?”

Felicity glowered at him.  Hard core glowered.  Scowled even.  But Oliver lifted his eyes and gave her this innocent little smile, waiting.

Well, the glow ball wasn’t a _bad_ idea.  Of course, they were waterproof.  This was ARGUS.  And this little distraction bought her a minute to try and think of a solution to her scar problem.  Felicity wrinkled her nose at Oliver and stalked over to grab a glow ball (though her conscious was starting to nag her, pestering that the anger was a ploy to distract both of them from her fear).  

Back in the water, Oliver held out his hands to catch the Glow Ball, but when Felicity threw the ball it went well past Oliver and she watched him frown and dive after it.  She wasn’t the best at throwing, but not _trying_ to toss it to him had the advantage of buying her a minute and burning off of a little of her petty irritation with him. 

Felicity fell to her knees, watching as the glow ball lit up the pool…wow, with the reflection gone the water was as crystal clear as she’d ever seen.  And even more gorgeous.  Though that might just be because this came with a view of naked Oliver swimming the pristine water.  (Another reason tossing it over his head had been a good idea.

Then it occurred to her that she could have gotten in the water before lighting it the hell up and would have had less of a chance of Oliver seeing her clearly.  Damn it.  There was no way she was a genius.  Those IQ tests must have been wrong.   

The pool was pretty deep in the middle and Oliver dove, catching the ball before it reached the bottom but closer to Felicity there were at least two steps, a ledge maybe eighteen inches below the water and another about three to four feet down.  Both seemed fairly level, though they fell off to the sides and it became uneven with rocks and ominous looking stalagmites (that threatened to give her a heart attack as she imagined Oliver diving into one).

But, _thankfully_ , Felicity didn’t see any bones, human or otherwise.  Cenotes were frequently used by the ancient Mayans to make sacrifices to the gods, since they believed the water flowed directly to the underworld.  It wasn’t uncommon to find human remains in a cave diving expedition.

Oliver’s head popped out of the water and he held the glow ball over his head triumphantly, grinning as if he had just caught the golden snitch.  “Sunshine, we need to work on your aim.”

Felicity just shrugged, giving a little smile.  “If you say so.” 

Though that smile didn’t last.  Time was running out.  Oliver didn’t look like he was getting out any time soon and…Felicity was running out of options that wouldn’t lead to the conversation she didn’t want to have.   

Sitting down, Felicity started to work on her boots, both to buy herself time and, well, they needed to come off.  In or out of the water, she’d much rather make love without the big clunky things on. 

She was pulling off her second boot when she caught the glow ball out of the corner of her eye, rolling along the ledge until it hit the edge of the pool.  Her eyes automatically sought out Oliver, but all Felicity saw was a distant form under the water.  Now he was going for a leisurely swim.  Lovely. 

Felicity was focused on pulling off her socks when Oliver popped up in front of her, starting her as he emerged, suddenly waist deep, not two feet in front of her, like Poseidon rising from the sea.  He shook his head and, even with his short hair, she was sprayed with water.

Which was more annoying than sexy (mostly).  “Hey,” Felicity grumbled, taking off her glasses and wiping them off with her shirt.   She seriously considered going off and pouting, but that was stupid and childish and would do no one any good so she put her glasses back on and gingerly lowered her feet into the water. 

Oliver grinned, stepping into her space.  “You’re not naked.  You’re supposed to be naked.”

Yup.  And that was exactly what Felicity was trying to avoid.  Without looking like she was trying to avoid it.  Frak.

“Maybe I don’t want to swim.” Felicity tried for a teasing tone.  She wasn’t sure how successful she was at it.

This was so dumb.  How long did she think she could act coy before Oliver got suspicious? 

Oliver’s dimples appeared (not suspicious yet, apparently).  “Who said anything about _swimming_?”  

One more step and he trapped her with his arms, one hand on either side of her on edge of the pool.  Then, before Felicity could even begin to come up with a (hopefully) clever retort, Oliver lunged forward, drawing her into a slow sensual kiss that pushed all those silly worries straight out of her head.  _So_ much better. 

His wet body quickly drenched her t-shirt and it was a shock to her over heated skin, but so, so good.  Oooo maybe she should just jump in like this.  Felicity had no problem with Oliver seeing her wet t-shirt body.  That had the potential for sexy while still camouflaging exactly the things she wanted…overlooked.

When Oliver backed away from the kiss, Felicity resisted, pulling him back, tugging at his wet hair, her lips following his.  She didn’t want him to see her scars, but she had no problem with him seeing just how desperately she wanted him. 

When her eyes blinked open, Felicity saw that same desperate want reflected back and it took her breath away.  Oliver was panting, the warm air puffing against her lips, growling another, “Take off your clothes, Sunshine.”

Goddamnit!

Under any other circumstances it could have been the sexiest thing Felicity head ever heard.  Apparently, her body thought it was regardless.  Her breasts tightened and her core clenched but…

As soon as he saw the scars, sexy confident Oliver would leave and she’d have sad, self-flagellating Oliver instead.

“If I come in there, I’ll have to take off my glasses and then I won’t be able to see a damn thing,” Felicity found herself arguing, though she had no idea how it was going to help her cause. 

Oliver smiled.  “You’re nearsighted.  All you need to see is me.”

It should have sounded arrogant, but it didn’t.  It just reminded her of all the times they had joked that since Felicity could only see about two feet in front, the only thing her eyesight was good for was sex.  Oliver always teased it was the most important thing adding a wink and a grin.  The memory warmed her but—

“I’ll be your eyes,” Oliver rumbled and, dear god, the promise in his eyes.  “Now take off your shirt or I’ll do it for you.”

Oliver didn’t wait for an answer.  Why would he?  Not once in their entire relationship had Felicity denied him when he tried to undress her.  His wet hands found their way under her shirt, sliding across her heated skin, his thumb grazing her belly, just shy of her naval where…

Felicity panicked.  She scrambled up and back from the edge of the pool.  Which was suspicious as frak and stupid and left her wishing she’d just jumped in clothes and all. 

Because now Felicity was even more exposed.  In the _direct_ sunlight.  Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.

Oliver was watching her with heavy lidded eyes and a quirked brow, half-amused, half-questioning. 

But the amused-half was going to be full on probing in about five seconds flat if Felicity didn’t think quick.

Stepping back, Felicity fought the impulse to yank down on her shirt.  She knew it went to the top of her thighs since she had worn just that in the chamber to torment Oliver, but it was still hard to resist the urge to make sure it covered the scars. 

Would it be _that_ weird to just ask Oliver to turn around while Felicity got undressed?

Yes.  Yes, it would. 

It was completely out of character for the woman Oliver knew.  He would never demand her nakedness, but he sure as hell would want to know why.  He would want to reassure her and…

Oh, frak it.

Felicity shimmed out of her panties, keeping her eyes on Oliver’s the entire time.   The way they darkened did help her confidence in her overall attractiveness.  Then, with a deep breath and one last look around to get her bearings, she bent to put her glasses on top of her bag.  Oliver’s breath hissed, clueing Felicity into the fact that he must have caught a few nice view of her very naked (and thankfully scar-free) rear-end.

It also gave her a very welcome flash of inspiration. 

Felicity stood up slowly and, keeping her back to Oliver, she pulled the shirt over her head, deliberately taking her time.  Nothing like a strip-tease of the places she was proud of (she had a _nice_ ass) to distract from the parts she wanted to _down-play_.

_“Fe-li-ci-ty…”_ The drop-in octave of Oliver’s voice had her skin humming.

The plan seemed to be working.  So far anyway.

Throwing a smile over her shoulder, Felicity prayed it looked more suggestive than shy and turned quickly, running to the edge of the pool.  Aiming for the same spot Oliver had dived in, she pulled her legs up and did a Cannon Ball into the Cenote.  (That was about as fancy as she got when it came to dives and had the advantage of hiding her scars as she jumped).

When Felicity broke the surface of the water (the temperature was actually quite nice), she smiled.   The anxiety was already washing away (could be that slight current she felt) and…

Okay, good.  Final obstacle gone.  They were both naked in a magical fairy pool.  Now all Felicity had to do was find Oliver and they could do this thing.  Finally. 

The problem was…she hadn’t been kidding about not being able to see.  The beautiful Cenote was now…well, it was still beautiful actually.  In fact, it looked like Felicity had leaped into an Impressionist’s masterpiece.  She found the blur that was surely Oliver and swam toward him.  He was the only thing she needed to see clearly.

The water did feel heavenly.  It had been forever since she’d skinny dipped and the clean clear ground water was especially lovely on her extra sensitive skin.

“Felicity! What the hell was that?” the blur demanded, taking Felicity off-guard as he swam to her.

“Um…a moderately successful cannon ball?” Felicity offered, praying Oliver hadn’t seen the scars after all. 

 “You can’t see!  You could have hit the ledge—”

“Phfft.”  Felicity rolled her eyes.  Was _that_ all?  As if she was that stupid.  Though it was a relief that Oliver was just being his typical overprotective self.  “At least I knew it was _there_.  You just dived in.”

“That’s different.  I’m—”

“A hypocrite,” Felicity supplied giving Oliver her sweetest smile.  It was actually nice to reminded of how _not_ perfect he was. 

The last bit of tension melted away as Oliver came in to focus and no sooner was Felicity able to take in the blue of his eyes than his arms snaked out and yanked her to him.  

Their naked bodies came into full contact for the first time and…well, Felicity couldn’t imagine anything feeling better.  Stupid insecure anxiety.  She should have jumped into the Cenote ten seconds after Oliver had.  All those precious minutes wasted. 

Oliver pushed the hair off her face as Felicity took in his beautiful hooded eyes and sultry smile.  At the moment, she couldn’t even bring herself to care that their gorgeous surroundings had taken on a hazy, almost dreamlike quality.  It only brought seemed to highlight the man in front of her.

“Hi.” Oliver breathed, his voice somehow managing to be deep and seductive, and soft and full of wonder at the same time.

“Hi,” Felicity found herself laughing for no reason other than she was so damn happy.  She wrapped her arms around Oliver’s neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him closer and… both of their breaths hissed.  The skin on skin was amazing, but the way the move brought Felicity’s core directly against Oliver’s cock was something else entirely.

This was really happening.

Wow.

Suddenly, it was so real.  Incredibly, perfectly real.  The weight of secrets and guilt had been lifted and the fear of them not making it out was gone all there was left was _them_.

Felicity looked into Oliver’s eyes and saw all that wonder reflected back at her.  She felt a pull, deep in her chest and it almost felt like a string attached directly from her heart to his.

And, wow, how did this man make her think the _sappiest_ things?

Oliver cupped her ass and, with a low growl, pulled her even closer.  Felicity could feel every inch of his cock against her and her thoughts went from sentimental to downright indecent.  Wow, that was an impressive cock.

“Apparently the cool water hasn’t affected you much,” Felicity teased, pressing her hips closer just in case her meaning wasn’t quite clear enough.    

“Mmm.”  Oliver rubbed his nose against hers and Felicity caught a glimpse of his smile breathtaking before he began showering her face with open-mouthed kisses.  “It took the edge off,” he murmured between his attempts to drink the water off her skin, “which was kind of the point.  Didn’t want to embarrass myself.”

Okay.  _That_ made Oliver’s abrupt swan dive make _so_ much more sense.

But before Felicity could reply, Oliver was pulling her backwards, through the water, until he could stand.  Wow, how long had he been holding them both up by just treading water…

Then Oliver was kissing her and all non-kissing thoughts came to a standstill.  Because he was _really_ kissing her.  Deep and slow and thorough.  Mouths wide open, lips slanted, quickly-losing-all-capacity-for-thought kisses.  It was everything Felicity ever wanted and she would happily stay in this damn Cenote forever if this was her reward. 

Felicity wanted to touch all of him at once.  She couldn’t get enough.  His shoulders, his arms, his back.  But her favorite was his ass.  God, but it was glorious.  She loved the feel of the muscles as they clenched and released, grinding against her.  She couldn’t wait to grab a hand full as he thrust inside her and…

It didn’t take long for Felicity to be right back where she’d been before they fell through the magic wall.  Dear God, there was a _magic wall._   It was mind bending and…

Felicity couldn’t care less. 

All she cared about was taking Oliver inside her.  _Finally_.  After so fraking long.

Whimpering and sucking on Oliver’s tongue, Felicity snuck a hand down between them (which wasn’t easy, plastered together as they were) and got her hand around that beautiful (and somewhat intimidating) cock.

Oliver’s breath hissed, his lips falling from hers as he threw back his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.  Fraking magnificent. 

“Felicity…”  It was a groan, but, she wasn’t able to say if it was a question or a plea.

It didn’t matter. 

“Inside,” was Felicity response either way.  “Now, please.” 

But the damn man wasn’t moved by her politeness (didn’t Oliver know how much effort it took) and shook his head.  “Sunshine, _baby_ —”

Felicity squeezed his cock, dragging her hand up and twisting a bit at the end.  If she was remembering correctly it would make him…Oliver let out a deep groan, his head falling back.  Just like riding a bike.  

But still Oliver argued, “It’s going to be better for you if you go first.  I’ve been on edge since Palenque and I haven’t gone bareback since…”

Didn’t Oliver understand she couldn’t care less how long he lasted?  Felicity just wanted him _inside_ her. 

She probably should have said that, but instead she pumped his cock again and Oliver’s breath stuttered.  Words required higher brain function.  Also, this was the fastest way to keep from hearing about the last time he went ‘bareback’.

Head back and eyes closed, Oliver still managed to say (how was he managing all these _words_?), “…since the last time we were together.”

Okay.  Maybe she _did_ want to know.

Felicity laughed.  Feeling suddenly delirious and just _that_ fricken happy.   Because she couldn’t describe the thrill, the possessive glee, she got from knowing she was the only one who got to be with Oliver skin to skin.

“Well, that’s perfect then, because the one advantage of being infertile is no need for birth control.” 

Okay. 

Wow. 

Felicity couldn’t believe she had actually said that.  It was the first joke she had ever made about her infertility and…she felt fine. 

No familiar sinking feeling.  No wave of anxiety or grief. 

But Oliver had gone still and was looking at her with question in his eyes.  Waiting for some clue how to react. 

So she gave him one.

Felicity gave Oliver her biggest grin.  She didn’t even have to force it. “No need for _impediments_ here.  Nope, never again.”

Oliver’s chuckle was relieved as the concern washed out of his expression. 

But then, (and if she didn’t know him so well she probably wouldn’t have caught it) Felicity watched as something darkened his expression.  The hard edge of possessiveness, softened by vulnerability…

Frak, that’s what Felicity got for not thinking before she spoke. 

“I didn’t mean to imply that I’ve been on an enormous binge of impediment-free sex.   Impediment-free _one-night stands_ since you already know I haven’t been in a relationship.”  Good God!  What was she saying?  What was _wrong_ with her?  “What I _mean_ to say is there hasn’t been any taking advantage of not needing birth control.  Before now.” Okay, now _that_ sounded pathetic.  “I mean, I’ve been safe.  So, so _very_ safe.” 

Wow.  _That_ was a hot mess.  No actual lies, but nothing resending transparent and certainly a train-wreck of a babble.

But Oliver’s face relaxed back into that happy smile and he looked relieved, so Felicity supposed it was all right0.  If she couldn’t embarrass herself in front of him, who could she?

“That’s good.” Then Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in his own embarrassed gesture.  He looked adorable and unsure with the perfect amount of awkward.  “Not to imply you would ever be _un_ safe.  You would never be reckless and you had every right to have sex with whoever you wanted to.”  Except, the lemon it looked like he swallowed showed exactly how he felt about the idea.  “It wasn’t like it would’ve been _cheating_ or—”

This time, Felicity kissed him quiet.  It seemed the polite thing to do (and, also, she was ready to be done with this topic.  So ready).  “I don’t think this relationship can handle more than one babbler,” she teased a full minute later. 

Oliver laughed outright this time.  “We’ve withstood a lot worse than two babblers.  Pretty sure we can handle pretty much anything at this—”

Clearly, Felicity was still an emotional mess because Oliver’s words brought tears to her eyes and she slammed her mouth back to his.  It was messy and uncoordinated and it quickly became a tangle of teeth and tongue and lips that she didn’t even bother trying to sort it out.

Felicity was much more interested in making Oliver feel good.  In showing him how much he meant to her in every way.  She wanted him to feel worshiped, the way he made _her_ feel worshiped.  And that meant putting any focus she had left on the hand still wrapped around his cock.

Pumping him with a slow steady rhythm, Felicity brushed her own clit with every pass and she didn’t know who it was driving crazier.  By the way Oliver was groaning pretty much continuously around her tongue, it was driving him pretty damn crazy, but she thought she could give him a run for his money.

Oliver didn’t let her get away with it for long (though it was longer than Felicity thought he would), before he wrenched his lips away, panting, “Gotta stop, Sunshine.  Not gonna last.”

Stopping was the last thing Felicity had any intention of doing.  Instead, she brought his cock closer to where she wanted him most and leaned in, biting his earlobe and whispering, “Then you know what to do.”  And just in case Oliver still wasn’t understanding, she added, “I want you inside me when I come.”

The growling groan sound Oliver let out then…if there was ever a sound of surrender, that was it.

Oliver hoisted her up higher.  Felicity she was forced to let his cock go but, before she could form a word of protest, the head of his cock was at her entrance and…

Felicity tipped her chin down and met Oliver’s eyes.  He was looking up at her with a look of such intense devotion it made her breath hitch.  It was most amazing sight in the world and she was so grateful.

“I love you,” Felicity murmured before the decision to do so had even formed in her mind.  It was only a husky wisp of a sound, but Oliver’s eyes flashed and brightened in response.

“Always and forever, Sunshine.”

Felicity might have started to cry if Oliver hadn’t chose that moment to start lowering her onto his cock.  Then all she could do was focus on how it felt.

It was thrilling and glorious.  It was everything Felicity had hoped it would be.

Except…

It really wasn’t.   Because _it hurt_.

Not _terribly_.  But the pain took Felicity by surprise and her breath hissed.  She didn’t have the wherewithal to school her expression and she winced.

It was probably the worst thing Felicity could have done.

Because, _of course_ , Oliver froze.

“You okay?” he panted, concern transforming his face.

“Uh huh.”

But, unfortunately, Felicity didn’t think she was all that convincing.  Because, yeah, it still hurt.

Sex hadn’t hurt since Felicity was a goddamned virgin, having sex with a teenage boy who knew even less than she did.  There had been a little… _burn_ when she’d started having sex with Oliver (he was definitely the biggest man she’d ever been with), but he was far from an amateur and had still managed to make amazing.

The way this _should_ be.  But wasn’t.

Fuck her life.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Oliver muttered.

Yup.  Her thoughts _exactly_.  

Felicity wasn’t surprised when Oliver pulled away, his cock leaving her entirely as he let her slide down his body until they were eye to eye.   She was seconds away from sobbing, she swore to god.

“Felicity, if there is _anything_ you aren’t telling me…?”

And it just kept getting better. 

Why couldn’t they have one moment?   _One_ perfect moment?   Felicity didn’t think it was too much to ask for.  Not after everything they had been through.

“Something about your condition—”

Fuck! “No!” Felicity practically screamed it.  Then she managed to moderate her tone and repeated, “No,” shaking her head for good measure.  Because, dammit, _no_.

Felicity refused to even contemplate that the surgery she’d had all those years ago would make sex painful.  The doctors had _said_ it wouldn’t and…life just couldn’t be _that_ unfair.

_“Fe-li-ci-ty,_ ” Oliver hissed, making it clear he didn’t believe her.  He knew she was keeping something from him.

At that point, it was either burst out in tears or…

“It’s just that you’re so _big_ ,” Felicity’s ginormous brain decided to say.  Yup, that’s what it went with.  Maybe because that was the only explanation she was willing to contemplate.  “And it’s been a while since…” 

Okay, so Felicity _was_ pretty sure it was her five-year drought plus Oliver’s above-average size that was making things…uncomfortable.   But how to finish that sentence without lying _or_ admitting she was beyond pathetic?  She was not ready to confess she hadn’t even kissed someone since Oliver.  It was too humiliating. 

In the end, Felicity didn’t have to finish the sentence at all.

Oliver’s furrowed eyebrows finally relaxed and his eyes softened as he asked, “Are you _sure_ that’s all?” 

Felicity imagined the enormous ego stroke (pun very much intended) that went along with the confession helped.

Nodding a little frantically, Felicity added, “The doctors totally cleared me for sex.” 

Of course, that had been five years ago and Felicity hadn’t attempted it until now.  Nor had she been back to the gynecologist.  Why would she?  She didn’t have the parts they specialized in. 

“I swear there is _nothing_.  I need to get used to you.  Your size, I mean,” Felicity even managed a smile.  Sort of.

Please, god.   Let that be all. 

It wasn’t like the surgery had involved her vagina or anything.  It just removed the…attached parts.  There was no reason for it to permanently cause Felicity pain with sex.  There _was not._

At least this time, her admission earned Felicity a smile.  Though, Oliver still asked, _again_ , “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”  Felicity couldn’t say it vehemently enough. 

Then Felicity reminded herself she _was_ sure.  So it was _not_ a lie. 

Swallowing, Oliver nodded (thank heavens) and gave her another quick kiss.  Then his cock was back where it belonged, gently pressing inside her, moving even more carefully this time.  Still, Felicity barely had a moment to offer a prayer that it would go better this time.

It didn’t. 

She tried not to show a reaction.  To the pain.  It wasn’t any better, even with the care Oliver was taking.  Felicity tried so _damn_ hard to hide it, but it mustn’t have been enough because he stopped, leaving her, and this time he pulled her legs from his hips, setting her away from him.

Felicity was too surprised to fight it.  Or cry. 

Yet.

Oliver took her head in his hands and forced her to look him in the eye.  It was the only place they were still touching and Felicity was sure he could see the tears threatening to spill over.   

“Felicity, what aren’t you telling me?”

Her eyes widened and her lip trembled and Felicity was certain she sounded completely pitiful as she stammered, “The doctors really _did_ say I was fine.  I just…it’s not…it’s just been—”

“As much as I’d really like to make small penis jokes that _can’t_ be all, unless…” Oliver’s voice trailed off, shock washing over his face. 

Felicity could tell the exact moment that he finally put two and two together and she fought the urge to turn her back.  To hide rather than face the humiliation.  

Oliver’s fingers on her face tightened, becoming almost too tight, then trembled as he caught himself and gentled his touch. _“Fe-li-ci-ty_ , when you said you’ve been safe, that you haven’t been taking advantage of not needing birth control…what did you mean?  How long _has_ it been?”

Felicity closed her eyes, blocking him out because…Oliver had left her no choice.  It was a clear and direct question.  She couldn’t not answer.  She couldn’t lie. 

That left Felicity only one option.

Swallowing, Felicity forced out, “Five years, three months, and fifteen days.”

Oliver’s indrawn breath was harsh and Felicity would swear his hand were trembling against her cheeks, but she refused to open her eyes.  She couldn’t face him.  Didn’t want to see the… _pity_ in his eyes.

“You’re serious?  You haven’t…not since we—”

Felicity nodded and this time she did try to turn away.  The urge to run, to get the hell out of that pool and go… _anywhere else_ was too strong to resist.

But Oliver didn’t let her.   An arm banded around her waist and pulled Felicity in. It was gentle, but far too insistent to fight.  The hand cradling her head tightened and he pulled her into a hug.

Weak as she was, Felicity went, burying her face in Oliver’s chest and clutching him.  She still couldn’t look him in the eye.

Oliver pressed his lips against Felicity’s temple and whispered, “I don’t understand.” And he truly sounded like he didn’t.  “Why?  Were you trying to punish yourself?”

Wonderful.  Of course, Mr. Self-Flagellation would go _there_.  “No, it wasn’t like that.”  There was nothing left but the truth and the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  “I just didn’t want to.”

Funny how simple the truth could be.  

And the disbelieving look on his face… _damn_ him.  Oliver was trying to figure out a way to blame himself for this.  Felicity could see it in his eyes.  The guilt.  It was _insane_.  He hadn’t even been there.  How could it possibly be _his_ fault?  Though Felicity imagined Oliver Sex-On-A-Stick Queen couldn’t even fathom someone just not being interested in sex.  For a week never mind five years.

Sighing, Felicity gave in fully and confessed, “Oliver, I am being one hundred percent honest when I say that I had no interest in romance _or_ sex.  Especially sex.  My libido has been zero.  Honestly, I thought it was a side effect of the surgery.  Why would I have a drive for sex if I couldn’t procreate.  It made sense conceptually and evolutionarily and…whatever the reason, it’s been a pretty asexual existence.”

Okay, um…that was at least one more truth bomb than Felicity had intended to throw.  She had started off so strong too.

Now Oliver was staring at her with his mouth open.  Looking _devastated_.  And terrified.  He actually whimpered when he asked, “Is that possible?  That the surgery caused—?”

Could this be going worse?  “The doctors said ‘no’.  All the research I did said ‘no,’ but at the time I didn’t really care so…” Felicity gestured helplessly.  She didn’t know what else to say. 

Oliver took a deep breath and asked the question he seemed to be dreading.  “And now?  Are you having trouble feeling—?”

“ _Nooo_!” Felicity reassured as soon as she realized what Oliver was asking.  This was why she needed to start open from the beginning.  His brain kept supplying even worse scenarios.  “Not even a _slightly_.  I would think it was obvious, but the minute I saw you it all came flooding back.  My libido _exploded_.  It seems to be making up for lost time.”

Wow.  Felicity really needed to stop talking, but the smile that had spread over Oliver’s face seemed to be in charge of her voice and it had no use for good-old self-preservation.  “So guess I’m not broken after all.  Which is good.  _Very_ good.  It was just that I, you know, missed you.  Apparently, I’m only interested in sex with _you_.”

And…if only Felicity had shut her mouth two sentenced ago.

Because Oliver’s smile had faded back to a shocked open-mouth stare and it left Felicity feeling as vulnerable as she had ever felt. 

“Say something,” Felicity pleaded, desperation starting to build.  “I’m starting to freak out here.”

“I…” Oliver cleared his throat, blinking as if to break himself out of a trance.  “You’re serious?”  His hands clenched at her waist as he said it.

“Not exactly something I’d _joke about,_ Oliver.”  Desperation made Felicity snippy.

Oliver nodded, still looking shell-shocked. “Okay.  Okay.”  Then he yanked Felicity closer, bending and lifting her off her feet so his face was buried in her neck.  “ _Okay_.”

Felicity had no idea what to make of Oliver’s reaction.  He was clutching her tightly, as if she had just told him she was cured of whatever horrible illness he’d created in his head.  So maybe he really had just been worried the surgery had further long reaching effects.

It didn’t wipe away the embarrassment, the self-consciousness, but when she laid her hand on his back, Felicity would swear she could feel Oliver trembling against her and… 

“Are _you_ okay?” Felicity asked softly, starting to be more concerned than embarrassed.  Whatever this was…it baffled her. 

Oliver took a deep shaky breath.  A full-body tremor ran through his body and, pressed against her as he was, Felicity felt every quiver.  “I’m just a little overwhelmed,” he murmured into her neck.

Okay.  Felicity could buy that.  Mostly.

“Overwhelmed in a good way or overwhelmed in a bad way?” Felicity pressed and she hated how insecure she sounded.

But Oliver huffed out a chuckle, pressing his eyes against her shoulder and if Felicity didn’t know better, she’d say _he_ sounded embarrassed when he said, “Just overwhelmed.  Trying to…make sense of it all in my head.”

Well, at least Oliver was being honest.  Though Felicity wasn’t sure what there was to make sense of.  It was pretty simple really.  “I had a trauma.  I wasn’t interesting interested in sex.  Now I’m back with the love of of my life and my libido is making up for lost time.  It’s as cut and dry as that.”

Oliver’s laugh was louder this time, but it seemed to have a hysterical edge.  Felicity would have pulled back, to try to get a good look at his face, but there wasn’t any give in his embrace. 

“Maybe I’m trying to wrap my head around how I feel about it then.”

Great.  That sounded ominous.  “I know it’s weird—”

“It’s not that.  It’s just…” Oliver pressed a kiss to her shoulder and a little of the tension bled out of her.  “I hate that you lived like that.  That you were alone, believing you were broken and I…at least I feel like I _should_ feel that way…”

Felicity expected the first, but…her anxiety was rising and the long pauses weren’t helping so she prompted, “But?” and held her breath.

Oliver grunted, moving his head in a rough sort of nuzzling motion, keeping his eyes hidden in the crook of her neck.  “ _But_ I’m the worst kind of asshole because mostly I feel…”

Disgusted?  Sorry for her?

“Relieved,” Oliver confessed miserably and Felicity was left blinking away her surprise.  “So _fucking_ relieved and…happy.  I’m fucking ecstatic because you haven’t been with anyone else.  You were alone and miserable and all I can think is…”

Oliver finally lifted his head, though his eyes remained firmly shut.  Shame was written over his beautiful features.

And Felicity drank it.  Like it was the first clean water she’d tasted in years.

“ _Mine,”_ Oliver moaned, hanging his head.  

It probably shouldn’t have caused Felicity’s heart to leap like it did but, _god_ , that sounded wonderful.   

“All I can think is that you’re _mine_.  What kind of person does that make me?  I _love_ you.  I should want you to be happy no matter what.  How can I experience pleasure in knowing you weren’t—?”

_Frak_.

Felicity yanked Oliver’s head down, slamming her lips onto his, thrusting her tongue inside almost violently.  Words weren’t adequate for what she was feeling in that moment.  Her passion would have to speak for her.

A dizzying sort of relief left Felicity feeling almost high as Oliver’s possessive words sent shocks of intense desire ricocheting through her body.  She dug her nails into his back, feeling an equal and opposite need to mark him as _hers_.  To possess him as he possessed her.  None of this was rational, but damn if she could fight it.

Oliver didn’t kiss her back at first.  In fact, after a moment of frozen shock, he pulled his lips from hers, his eyes searching her face almost desperately.  But before Felicity had a chance to form an answer to the question in them, they darkened with something almost primal, a look so fiercely possessive it made her clit throb.

Then Oliver surged into her, capturing Felicity’s lips like a conquering soldier, dominating, claiming…and, _dear god_ , was it good. 

Felicity met him halfway…okay, maybe not _half_ way.  She wasn’t able to quite meet Oliver’s intensity.  He was overwhelming her senses.  It was hard to focus.  To do more than just take.   Or let him take. 

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, as far as they would stretch, and gave in, letting Oliver plunder her mouth, doing her best to just keep up.  There was no way she was taking control back.  Not of this kiss anyway.

It was a good thing she didn’t want to.  Oliver was intoxicating like this.  Part of her wondered if it was wrong to be so turned on by this jealous, possessive streak, but given she had one just as long…it felt _so good_ to be wanted this much.  By the man Felicity wanted just as fiercely.

Cupping her ass, Oliver yanked her closer, lifting her, running his calloused hands between her thighs, urging them apart.  Until Felicity took the hint and hopped, letting Oliver and the water take her weight as she wrapped her legs back around his hips.

Thank _goodness_.  Maybe now they could get on to the good stuff. 

Felicity was certain all they needed to do was push past the initial pain and they’d be good.  Wonderful even.  Well, she was mostly certain.  But very eager to prove herself right.

As soon as her legs were in place, Oliver was moving, walking her backward through the shallow water and Felicity couldn’t find it in herself to try to figure out what his plan was.  His kiss was pretty all consuming. 

Her ass landed in the ledge, sliding across the smooth surface of the worn rock until Felicity was sitting, the water lapping her bellybutton (above her scars, thank goodness.  That last conversation was painful enough).

Oliver pulled back, leaving Felicity’s breasts exposed to the cool air.  His eyes bored into hers as he panted, “I’m sorry.”

Felicity let out an involuntary laugh.  “What could you _possibly_ be sorry for?”  Maybe she needed to add therapy to the list of things they _both_ needed to do when they got out. 

His lips twitched in an almost smile, but the intensity stayed in his eyes.  “For being a possessive asshole.  I know you don’t belong to anyone but yourself and I—”

Felicity’s throat closed in, but she still managed to interrupt with, “But I do.  I belong to you.”

Oliver groaned, a deep painful sound.  His face went slack and his eyelids fluttered.  “ _Felicity_.” He breathed it like a prayer.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute, but Felicity waited until his eyes came into focus again and met hers.  “And _you_ belong to _me_ ,” she swore with a possessiveness she knew matched his.

Oliver nodded.  “Yes.  Yes,” he vowed and the acceptance tone brought tears to Felicity’s eyes.  “I’m yours and you are _mine_.”

Then he kissed her.  Kissed her with the same intensity of before but with a veil of adoration that made Felicity feel absolutely worshipped.  Oliver kissed her until she forgot her name.  Kissed her and kissed her and she didn’t realize the kiss had gentled to a careful slow love-making until she tried to get closer and his lips left hers…

“Wha…?”

Eyes blinking open, Felicity started to ask if something was wrong but she trailed off, her breath catching as she saw Oliver’s eyes fixed on her chest, his lips open and wet and panting as his gaze dragged over her rounded breasts and pebbled nipples…looking as if he wanted to devour her whole.

Yes, please.

Oliver ran his fingertips over the curve of her shoulder, down her breast, gathering water droplets as he went, trailing to her belly…

Which was great and all but…Oliver was going _way_ too slow.  The pain would go away.  They needed to push through it.  The quicker the better, Felicity was certain of it.  Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

Felicity tried to tell Oliver that, but what came out was a whimpered, “Come back,” as she reached for him.

Huffing out a soft laugh, Oliver’s eyes sprang up to hers.  His lips curved and he leaned in…

To kiss her forehead?  What the…?

“Sorry, baby.  We’re going to have to do this my way.”

Okay…?  “What’s your—”

Then Oliver proved (once again) that he had the ability to rob Felicity of words, this time without coming near her lips as he surged forward and captured a nipple in his mouth…

_Yesss_.

Oliver ran his tongue around the peddled flesh, hard and fast, before pulling it deep into his mouth and sucking.  Hard.

Instinctively, Felicity arched her back.  She cupped Oliver’s head, holding him to her, only vaguely realizing Oliver had gone back to the appetizer when she was ready for the main course.

But, _damn,_ the appetizer was good.

Felicity had forgotten how good.  Well, he’d done this in the tunnel and it was amazing, but before that.  She’d forgotten the way every suckle sent a pulse of pleasure straight to her clit, as if someone had attached them by a string.  An instrument string.  Every strum leaving it vibrating with the sweetest music.

She cried out wordlessly and the sound echoed through the cave, completely unable… _or unwilling_ to ask Oliver to stop.

But after a moment Oliver paused and smiled up at her, Felicity’s nipple resting against his full lower lip as he murmured, “Still works.”  A giddy relief was painted on across his face.

Felicity laughed breathlessly, then broke off, her breath hitching as Oliver began to flick her nipple with the tip of his tongue.  “Yup, guess so,” she managed to murmur and she was sure her own awe was evident in her voice. 

Nothing broken here.  No way, no how. 

Oliver’s hand trailed up her thigh, spreading them as he stroked the delicate skin with his fingertips and when he found her folds, Felicity jerked, her legs instinctively falling open, straining to go wider, her hips tipping toward him…to allow him _all_ the access he could possibly want.

He slipped one finger inside her and Felicity couldn’t even remember the last time he had used just _one_ finger, if ever.  But as Oliver started to pump, the pad of that single finger dragging over the spongy tissue on the front wall of her vagina, she was surprised at how acutely she felt it and cried out.

“You okay?” Oliver asked, instantly, looking up at her with wild eyes, seeking reassurance while his finger continued its gentle movements. 

“Uh huh.  Yup,” Felicity forced out.  Because she knew that Oliver would stop if she didn’t find the words to soothe him.  And no one wanted him to stop.  Nope.  Absolutely not.   

Felicity added a nod for good measure and found she had trouble stopping, her head jerking up and down frantically until Oliver let out a soft laugh and moved to capture her other nipple with his lips again.

Felicity’s head lolled back on her shoulders as her neck muscles went lax.  Her fingers scrambled for purchase on the wet rock behind her and she leaned back, pushing into Oliver’s touch.

He added his thumb to the assault against her senses and it ghosted lightly over her clit, but even as soft as the touch was, the sensation was still so intense it was almost too much.  If Oliver didn’t stop now there was no way Felicity wasn’t coming before him.  And she was pretty sure that was _exactly_ his intention.

Felicity’s hips jerked.  “Not…not necessary.  I can…” she sputtered, not even knowing what was coming out of her mouth.  She was pretty sure it made no sense.  “ _Oliverrrrr_ , don’t have….”

Oliver lifted his head.  But not before forming a firm seal on her nipple with his lips, so her breast went with him.  That string pulling tight, so _fraking_ tight, and when her nipple finally released with a wet pop, Felicity moaned, grinding against Oliver’s hand, encouraging him with her body, even if her brain was asking for something different.

“I _do_ need to,” Oliver insisted.  “And you need to _let_ me.  I’m not okay with hurting you.”

And, damn, there came the tears again.  Felicity was an absolute mess.  “ _Oliverrr_ …”

Felicity didn’t even know what she was asking for any more.  But Oliver knew exactly what he wanted to give. 

His finger slipped out, returning with a second finger.  Two…maybe three slow slides, coupled with that tormenting masterful thumb and then Oliver began to scissor his fingers inside her, stretching her, watching Felicity’s face carefully as he did.

Oliver’s thumb applied more pressure, directly over her clit, rolling it back and forth under its hood and… _frak_ …Felicity bit her lip to keep from screaming. 

“How about this?  This okay, too?”

Felicity’s eyes snapped open.  Wasn’t that obvious?  She didn’t think she could express it more clearly.

But she saw the amusement in Oliver’s eyes, a slight smirk on his lips and Felicity grunted, “Stop asking _stupid_ questions…”

Laughing, a deep rich sound that filled Felicity’s soul, Oliver scissored his fingers wide.  “Just checking.”

Just checking her ass. 

But…maybe he was.  Felicity forced herself to meet his eyes again and saw how soft and warm they were.  Oliver _was_ genuinely worried for her, taking such care to make this good for her, and all she did was demand stuff.

“Doesn’t hurt,” Felicity found herself panting.  “Not at all.  No pain… _anywhere_.”

And that was the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  Damn, his _thumb_ …

Oliver crooked his fingers, rubbing the tips against her walls as he asked, “Can you take another?”

“I’d rather take your cock.”

It wasn’t until Felicity heard his bark of a laugh that she realized what she’d said.  Oops. 

Oh well. Wasn’t like it wasn’t true.

But Oliver was still intent on doing this _his way_.  So instead of his cock she felt three fingers enter and…Felicity felt the stretch, but no pain. 

Thank god.

Because as willing as Felicity was to push through the pain she was pretty damn sure Oliver wasn’t.  Maybe even couldn’t. 

“Okay.  That’s good.  That’s perfect,” Felicity babbled, trying to reassure him every way she could.  “I’m rea—”

Again, Oliver descended on her nipple, sucking deep, his mouth opening wide as he pulled as much of her breast as he could into his mouth.  His thumb doubled down, pressing and circling. Faster and faster.  His fingers pumping, rubbing…

“Ahhhh….”

Oh _god_.  Oh.  Oh.  _Oh_ …

Oh _wow_ it had been forever.  Felicity had forgotten how good this felt.  She thought she remembered but…how could she have forgotten _this_?

Pleasure pulsed through her.  Felicity’s muscles tightened and a scream tore from the back of her throat as her head and her eyes rolled back.  The sensations, the _ecstasy_ …exploded.

And exploded.

And exploded.

Fireworks.  Felicity had trouble believing there wasn’t some magic here.  Because surely sex had never been _this_ good before.  Not just for her, but _ever_.  In the whole of creation. 

And this was just the appetizer.

Felicity vaguely registered Oliver’s mouth leaving her breast, his fingers slipping out and settling on her inner thighs.  Then he was easing her legs further apart and…her breath caught because he was pushing inside and…

It was _good_.

Not painful.  Just so, _so_ good.

Thank _god_.

Oliver’s hand curled over her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh and that was good too.  Great even. His eyelids were barely parted and he seemed to be struggling to keep them open, but still he watched her vigilantly, searching for any sign of discomfort.

But there was none as Oliver slowly…so _damn_ slowly, rocked back and forth, each time going slight centimeters deeper.  It was careful and…

Wonderful.  So fraking wonderful. 

Felicity didn’t have to school her expression.  She didn’t have to hide _anything_ , because all there was was fullness and pleasure and a connection Felicity felt straight to her core. 

Not just her physical core.  All the way to the core of her being.  To her soul.

When Oliver was _finally_ fully seated within her, her first orgasm still pulsing through her, Felicity…she wanted to freeze this moment in time.  Surely, it was the most perfect moment she had ever experienced.

“Are you okay?” Oliver panted, his voice both hoarse and worried. 

Felicity was about to tease him again, comment on how it had to be pretty damn obvious how fantastic she felt, when Oliver cupped her cheek, his thumb catching a tear.  She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

Huffing out a watery laugh, Felicity placed her hand over Oliver’s, holding it to her face.  “Everything is _wonderful_.” Though her voice was so wrecked, she wasn’t sure how he could believe her.  She pressed a kissed to his palm and tried to explain, “No pain.  It’s just…I just love you _so_ much…”

Her voice cracked and Felicity watched Oliver’s face crumble, his eyes swelling and filling with tears as his other hand came up to cup her face as well. 

“Me too.  _God_ , Felicity.  You have no idea…”

He pressed his lips to hers and it was just that, lips on lips.  No tongues.  Nothing fancy or deep. Yet, somehow, it was more intimate, more reverent than before. 

It was a promise.  And it was beautiful. 

But then Oliver’s hips jerked (his poor cock was probably so done with all their mooshy nonsense) and his breath hissed.  Felicity would put money down that that jerk was completely involuntary, but he regained control quickly.  

With his hands still cupping her face, Oliver’s lips closed around her bottom lip and his eyes held hers and…he moved his hips so very slowly, in the most _perfect_ circle.

Sensation rippled through her and Felicity was sure Oliver saw it.  _Felt_ it.  From his cock to his lips.

“Pain?” Oliver murmured and Felicity almost laughed.

“Pain?  What’s pain?”

Felicity didn’t know what possessed her to joke about it, but it had Oliver breathing out a heartfelt, “Thank god.”

Oliver’s relief was a physical thing.  Though maybe it was her own that had Felicity’s head spinning.   

Now that they were over the hump (so to speak) Felicity could finally admit that, despite what she had assured Oliver, she knew, deep-down, there _could_ have been a problem that caused sex to be physically painful.  It wasn’t like she had had anything inside of her for the last five years.  Not even her own fingers.

Felicity hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that it was a possibility and now…thank _heavens_ , now she didn’t need to.  

Because Oliver was inside her.  Where he belonged.  And it felt _perfect_. 

She felt stretched in the best possible way.  Maybe there had been a slight burn at first, but even that had felt good.  And now there was just swollen nerve endings, alive with heat and pleasure and purpose.  Felicity never wanted it to end.

And Oliver…her beautiful, _wonderful_ Oliver was determined to drag it out as long as he could.  He held one of Felicity’s thighs up over his elbow as his other arm circled her waist and he rocked in slow careful movements.  So incredibly careful.  Tender even. 

Oliver’s head lolled back, his eyes finally slipping closed.  His teeth bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, as he fought to restrain himself.

Felicity tried to speak.  Tried to tell Oliver to _let go_.  That she was fine.  She could take it.  She was utterly confident in that now.  She could take whatever Oliver _,_ _and life_ , gave her.

But all that seemed to emerge from Felicity’s lips were incoherent sex noises.  They made Oliver’s eye lids flutter and his cock jerk, so she had no desire to stop them but more focused communication would be good too.

Reaching out, Felicity flung an arm around his shoulder and reeled herself in until her breasts were smooshed against his chest.  Then she ran her tongue over Oliver’s lip until his teeth finally gave up her prize.  She soothed the damaged flesh, before dipping inside and stroking his tongue with her own. 

Felicity quickly found that holding onto Oliver gave her much more control than trying to gain purchase on the slick rock, that she could use both the ledge and the slipperiness to her advantage, and soon Oliver’s careful strokes were overpowered as she slammed them together in a rhythm that made Oliver groan and the water splash around her hip bones. 

She expected Oliver to fight it, but she must have finally convinced him because he melted into her instead, the sounds of his own pleasure reverberating through their kiss and her body started to climb.  Again.  Precipitously.  It made Felicity simultaneously wonder how much more she could take and how quickly she could become completely addicted to this.

When Oliver finally wrenched his lips away, it was to groan, “Can’t…Felicity, _can’t_ …”

It was as incoherent as her own mindless words, but Felicity understood.  Her hands slid lower and she finally got them on Oliver’s flawless ass (god, that needed more attention later), urging him to thrust harder.  “Don’t have to.  Don’t hold back.  Just…give me _more_.”

Oliver whimpered, proving just how close he really was. He didn’t even argue.  He sped up his thrusts, going deeper as he pressed his open mouth to her temple and moaned into her ear, “Feel so _fucking_ good. _Fe-li-ci-ty…_ forgotten.”

That pulled a half-laugh, half-sob from Felicity’s throat.  She cupped the back of his head and held him to her.  “I know.  I know.  Me too.  Me too.”

“I want…but it’s too much…” There was so much emotion in Oliver’s voice. It brought the tears back to Felicity’s eyes.  He pushed even deeper on the next pass, gripping her ass, pulling the cheeks apart as he held her to him, adding layers of sensation on top of sensation.

“God… _Oliver_.”

“Never want to stop,” Oliver gasped.  But he thrust harder, driving them both closer to the edge.

“Yes.  _Yes_.”  And Felicity didn’t know if she was saying ‘yes’ to it lasting forever or to sinful motion of Oliver’s hips.  To chasing that last burst of sensation.  That perfect fall.

“Want to… _always_ …” Oliver sobbed into her ear, his breath coming fast and uneven.

“Yes—ahhghh…” The next thrust hit her clit at the exact right angle and Felicity saw stars.  “Yes!  Just like that.  _Foreverrr…_.”

Felicity’s nipples dragging against Oliver’s slick chest, where sweat mixed with the clear water as it sloshed between them in the most obscene way.

“Mine,” Oliver growled, his chin digging into her cheek, his stubble pressed into her skin and…

Okay, _that_ was the sexiest thing.  Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it was. 

“Yes.  _God, yes._ ” And wow that cliff was close.  _Again_.  Way to make up for lost time.

“Mine!” It was louder and more primal this time as Oliver’s hips started to _snap_ , pistoning in and out, hard enough for Felicity to know he had lost control.

“Yes!” Felicity screamed it and she must be giving her voice a work out because her throat felt raw.  But it was worth it to let Oliver know it was okay. 

The possessive declaration. The pounding thrusts.  _Everything_.  It was so _much_ more than okay.

The pleasure burst even brighter this time.  And when Felicity let out a wail, her body convulsing around him, her muscles tightening, Oliver’s last thread shattered.

His thrusts lost all rhythm.  Oliver’s face transformed with pleasure and it was a thing of beauty.  Felicity wanted to watch forever, but her own pleasure was too much.  She couldn’t control her muscles, not even her eyelids and…she couldn’t focus on anything but the sensations battering her with tsunami like waves.

And _still_ Oliver’s thrusts got deeper and deeper.  More and more powerful.  And it made Felicity feel just…wow, so very wow.  In all the ways.  It wasn’t just physical.  It was…it was _everything_.

Finally, Oliver thrust as deep as he could, straining to push into her as he simultaneously pulled her closer and Felicity couldn’t care less if she had bruises and she had to climb to Kin Cuudad with wobbly legs it was so _damn_ exquisite.

Oliver let out a loud, primitive sort of scream, one that Felicity swore she’d never heard before and hoped to hear again and again.  It triggered one last intense shock of bliss to ripple through her body before every muscle turned to warm honey and oozed over him, attempting to fuse her skin to his.

He certainly didn’t seem to mind.  In fact, Oliver’s body seemed to have the same intentions.

They stayed like that for long minutes. Oliver curled over her, holding her tight, drawing in what sounded like almost pained breaths against her cheek, until he finally he gasped, “Sorry.”

At first, Felicity wasn’t sure she’d heard him right, but whether she had or not, laughing probably wasn’t the best response so she smothered it the best she could and asked, “For what?” 

Because _honestly_. 

Oliver pulled back, searching her eyes. “For losing control.  I was too hard.  I couldn’t—”

“No.”  Felicity interrupted as quickly and as adamantly as she could.  “Just no.”

“But it must have hurt.” Oliver swallowed and the guilt clouding his eyes was in no way okay.

Felicity shook her head in vehement and absolute denial.  “Nope.  Nothing hurts.  Nothing hurt at _any point_.  That was…” God, was there even a word for what that was?  “Perfect.  Glorious.  Earth-moving.  Epic.” With each word Oliver’s face relaxed more and a smile started in his eyes and spread.  It did nothing but encourage the runaway words.  “I can’t even _believe_ how good that was.  To think I thought I was broken…”

Felicity broke off as she was caught up in helpless giddy laughter.  She must have sounded inane, but…she really couldn’t control it. 

The last of Oliver’s anxiety seemed to melt away as he asked gently, “But not anymore?”.

She wasn’t sure if he was asking for reassurance or just trying to emphasize the point.  But either way, Felicity shook her head, running her hands over those gorgeous shoulders and up to the nape of his neck.  “Oliver, I have _never_ felt less broken and more…”

Letting out a happy sigh, Felicity searched for the phrase she wanted.  She wrapped her legs even more tightly around Oliver for full body hug, locking her feet and squeezing her internal muscles so she could still feel him inside him.

Oliver let out a soft groan and his hips stuttered into her again.

“More whole,” Felicity finished as the words she was looking for finally came.  “I have never felt more _whole_ than I do right now.” 

And talk about something she had never thought she would feel again.

Felicity watched a wave of pure emotion wash over him.  Oliver’s face scrunched up and she thought he was fighting tears, but before she could say anything else, his hands were cupping her face and his lips were on hers.

Nope.  Nothing broken here.  Not now.  Maybe not ever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming.   I’ve been pouring over this chapter for months trying to make sure it was equal to the very long build up.  Whether I succeeded or not is entirely up to you.  Please, let me know if you thought the…eh…climax was worth the wait.
> 
> I hope no one (or at least most of you) mind if we linger a bit at the Cenote before moving on.  I wanted to take advantage of the potential for smut, fluff, and resolution of lingering issue.  After they leave here it will be awhile before they are truly alone again.
> 
> And…I’m going to stop at that before I give away any other spoilers.
> 
> Thank you to the usual lovely ladies, **mariposablue9, Imusuallyobsessed** , and  **Ireland1733**.  I was particularly high maintenance with this one.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 24: The Cenote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> It came to my attention that maybe this story is a little angst heavy. Perhaps.  So now you are getting a chapter that’s 49% fluff, 49% smut with the tiniest sprinkle of plot mixed in. 
> 
> If I ever decide to turn this into an “original” novel, this chapter will be the first to go, but this is Fan-Fiction World where many of us worship those off-screen moments we don’t get to see in cannon.  It may be self-indulgent but (I hope) it’s fun and sexy and I don’t have a publisher to answer to.  
> 
> If this sort of thing annoys you, feel free to skip.  My Muse needed a little break from the intensity and I think a lot of you do too.
> 
> For first time readers, additional information about warnings can be found **[here.](https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/919582217642348544)**
> 
> Find “Previously on…” chapter summaries **[here](http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/post/174543534550/previously-on-to-sacrifice-the-sun-2018).**. 

 

_September 19, 2016_   
_13:21_   
_The Cenote_   
_The Southern tip of the Sierra Madre_   


There was something about swimming in a magical fairy pool post two explosive-slash-marathon orgasms that made everything just fall away.

Not just the last five years.  _Everything_. 

All the trauma.  All the responsibilities.  Everything weighing them down and waiting on either side of the tunnel.  The past, even the future, fell away.  This was a place out of time. 

Oliver and Felicity swam and kissed and touched and _played_. 

They _played_ in the water.   They had fun.  

_Fun_.  Imagine that. 

Felicity had barely had time to have fun as a _child_ , never mind as an adult and Agent of ARGUS…well, coding was _fun,_ but this was different. 

Here their _only_ _goal_ was to enjoy themselves and each other.  Who’d of thought?  It was something Felicity had forgotten existed and something she could quickly get addicted to.

Felicity didn’t have to ask to know it was the same for Oliver.  It wasn’t much of a leap, hell it was barely a baby step, to deduce that the only ‘ _fun’_ Oliver’d had in Russia was delivering a particularly satisfying beating to some badie.

But Felicity didn’t want to think about that, never mind talk about it.  Or anything else deep or weighty.  They’d had enough of that sort of conversation in the tunnel and the chamber before that. 

So, instead, Oliver and Felicity talked about…nothing.  About funny, silly nonsense. 

They bantered.  They teased.  All of it mixing with syrupy sweet declarations that had them laughing at their own foolishness.  They splashed and kissed and touched, exploring each other and their underwater cave.

They swam until their skin was pruney and then they swam some more.  Until Oliver finally decided they needed to stop and eat.

And while leaving the magical pool for ARGUS-issue protein bars wasn’t exactly appealing, the sight of Oliver’s glorious ass as he retrieved them certainly was.

Felicity swam over to the right of their ledge (the convent step created by the rock 18 inches below the water) where the floor dropped off abruptly and she could swim directly up to the edge of the pool.  There she was able to rest her chin and elbows on the smooth rock and watch the show.

Aka, her nude god of a boyfriend in the sparkling sunlight.  Or maybe he was a nymph.  Were there male nymphs?  If there wasn’t, there should be.  The proof was right in front of her.

Sigh.  So nice.

Oliver first grabbed his canteen and, after drinking the last of their water, he added antibacterial drops and placed the filter on top before tossing it to Felicity.

Felicity caught it easily, but wrinkled her nose as she submerged it in the water.  “You know, it’s very possible this is filtering out all the magic.”

Pausing as he riffled through their bags, Oliver looked up and threw Felicity a surprised look.  Then a grin started small and took over his face.  Lord, the only thing more beautiful than wet naked Oliver was wet naked _happy_ Oliver.  “I thought you didn’t believe in magic.”

“Oh,” Felicity waved her hand dismissively, “that’s _regular_ Felicity. Technology Expert, ARGUS Agent Felicity Smoak.  _She’s_ the one who puts all her faith in science.  Complete lack of imagination on her part.  If you ask _me_ anyway.”

Grabbing a handful of bars, Oliver sauntered back to the pool with a roguish look in his eyes.  God help her.  “So which Felicity Smoak is _this_?”

Smiling, Felicity pressed her tongue to her teeth, feeling absurdly young and carefree.  And completely up to the challenge in his eyes.  “Mermaid-Fairy Felicity,” she decided impulsively. 

As it turned out, Felicity had an _over_ active imagination.  It just hadn’t been given the chance to run free in a long time.  Well, not in a happy way.

Oliver threw back his head and laughed, the delight on his face filling Felicity with bliss bubbles (also something her imagination had just come up with). He fell to his knees in front of her, dropping the protein bars next to him and…

Felicity was left to try not to stare at the semi-hard cock directly in her line of vision.

Actually, why she try not to stare?  She was allowed.  Felicity was pretty sure they had agreed _he_ belonged to _her_.  And vis versa.  A mutual belonging.  Was their anything in the world better. 

And in magical Fairy-Mermaid Land nakedness was not only acceptable, it was compulsory.  Modesty and shame to be left in a place that was _not here._

So, in the spirit of complete hedonistic paganism (because wouldn’t a fairy-mermaid be a pagan?), Felicity gave Oliver a good thorough looking over, long enough that there was no way he could misinterpret what she was up to, before she lifted her gaze to his face, licking her lips as she did.

Oliver’s eyes darkened, but he said, “I’m not so sure about this ‘mermaid-fairy’ thing.”  He leaned just the tiniest bit closer (making his cock bob, don’t think she didn’t notice) and rasped, “You see, I really love that _other_ Felicity Smoak and it might be a problem if you were an imposture.”

A laugh rumbled through her, taking the same path as the arousal lite by the promise in those azure eyes. “Is that so?” Felicity tossed back and she found herself batting her eyelashes.  She actually _batted her eyelashes_.  There had to be _something_ in this water because she’d never felt quite like this before.

Oliver nodded, ever so slowly, all mock-seriousness.  “Yeah, and I eh…really don’t think she’d appreciate it if a changeling was looking at me like _that_.”

For some reason, contrary as it may be, Oliver’s words gave Felicity a surge of confidence and, feeling sexier than she had in, well, _ever_ , she raised herself up, braced on her elbows, to get closer. 

Which also had the effect of lifting her breasts out of the pool.

Felicity rested them on the bank and watched as Oliver’s eyes flicked down, skating over the exposed flesh.  Nope, modesty didn’t exist here and it was glorious. 

“Hmmm.  Well, how do you think she’d feel about _you_ looking at _me_ like that?” And, wow, Felicity really liked how sexy her voice sounded. 

If possible, Oliver’s eyes darkened further and it was clear he was enjoying this at least as much as Felicity was.   His smile became even more mischievous.  Maybe the real magic here was all the buried parts of themselves were finally being set free.  And look at that, it wasn’t just darkness they had stuffed down in the moldy attic of their subconscious.

“That depends...”  Oliver dropped to all fours, his face a mere inches from hers.  He (very purposely this time, she was sure) dragged his eyes over her breasts, his tongue pressed to his lower lip.  It made her skin tingle and her nipples tighten.  “Are you _my_ Felicity?”

The husky tone of his voice was damn near irresistible and Felicity pushed herself up, her lips reaching for his, feeling very mermaid-like as she stretched toward him.

But Oliver kept himself just out of her grasp, maintaining a full three inches between their faces.  He must have had a good view of the pout Felicity gave him.

Oliver chuckled and she could feel his breath against her lips as he murmured, “The thing is, _my_ Felicity Smoak is the love of my life and the _only_ one for me.”

See and _this_ was how Oliver managed to insert the sweetest, most romantic things into their silliness.  Every damn time.  At least Felicity was starting to acclimate to it, so she no longer felt like bursting into tears with every deceleration.

“ _Wellll_ …” Felicity dragged out the word, buying herself time to breathe in his words and refocus herself on the game they were playing.  

Crossing her arms, Felicity rested her breasts on top, pushing them up and putting them even more on display.  Oliver had been flaunting his body since they fell through that wall, why shouldn’t she?

Oliver tried not to react and he wasn’t a man easily flustered, but the quickening of his breath betrayed him.

Felicity thought she might be smirking.  Just a little.  “If she was the love of your life, I think you’d be able to tell if she and I were one and the same.”

“ _Hmm_ …”  Oliver made a show of considering this.  “That is an excellent point.”  He lunged forward, capturing Felicity’s lips with a kiss.  A tasting kiss.  Slow and shallow.  An exploration.

As he pulled back, Oliver’s tongue caressed her lips quite thoroughly, running from one edge to the other, before finishing with a smile that she could feel more than see.

Felicity giggled.  She wasn’t even embarrassed about it.  Surely fairy-mermaids were allowed to laugh in whichever manner they wanted.

Tilting his head, Oliver hummed, putting on his thoughtful face.  “I’m not sure.  You taste like my Felicity, but _my Felicity_ doesn’t giggle unless she’s drunk.”

That had her laughing outright and it warmed her to her core.  Feeling giddy, Felicity threw back, “Yes, _but_...who knows how the magical fairy water effects mere mortals?  Perhaps in addition to turning them into fairies and mermaids it makes them feel positively tipsy.”

Though, _if_ she was tipsy that was one thing Felicity wasn’t blaming on their magical haven.  That was all Oliver.  She was positively intoxicated by the man. 

Oliver pressed his lips together and nodded solemnly.  “Fair point.  That’s definitely a possibility.  I think I need another test.” 

This time, when he surged forward, there was no preamble.   Oliver’s tongue swept inside Felicity’s mouth and explored every nook and cranny.  Yet, it held the same leisurely sensuality.

Oliver groaned, deep in his chest, and it held a note of frustration. He sank a hand into Felicity’s wet hair, angling her head and just when she thought there was nothing more for him to discover, the kiss reached new depths.   

By the time Oliver pulled back, Felicity was lightheaded and feeling far more than tipsy.  It took her a minute to pry open her eyelids and, when she was finally able to blink herself back into focus, she watched him lick his lips. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the progress of his tongue if she wanted to.

The air felt warm and heavy as Felicity watched Oliver’s lips form his next words, the husky tone blanketing her senses.  “Well, you kiss like my Felicity and you have those little scars where you have your wisdom teeth removed like my Felicity.”

She laughed again, though, this time, Felicity thought it sounded husky and breathless.  God, the things Oliver remembered.  The way he _knew_ her, all of her, was even more exhilarating than this kiss. 

And _damn_ the man could kiss. 

He was on his belly now, leaning up on his elbows, his face still so close, looking incredibly young and carefree.  Felicity leaned in until her nose touched Oliver’s to murmur, “That sounds like definitive proof to me.”

“Hmm, maybe.  ‘Definitive’ is a strong word.”  Though the way Oliver rubbed her nose with his seemed in direct opposition to his words.  He dragged his nose across her cheek, slowly and with enough pressure to make Felicity shiver.  Then he buried it beneath her ear and inhaled.  “Smells like…”

Oliver took one more deep breath, before pulling back and meeting her eyes.  “Summer rain.”  Frowning, he shook his head.  “I guess you must be a fairy-mermaid after all.”

This time Felicity’s laugh was incredulous.  The forlorn look on Oliver’s face was just too much.  “It’s _mermaid_ -fairy and…exactly what does _your_ Felicity smell like, pray tell?”

Smiling dreamily (and the incredible part was she really didn’t think that was part of his act), Oliver rested his head in his hand and said, “Like Felicity, of course.”

Of course.  Felicity fought the urge to roll her eyes and parroted back, “Like Felicity, huh?”  Surely, Oliver could be more creative than that.

“What?  Was I supposed to say lavender and daffodils?” Oliver shrugged.  “I never understood describing people smells by other things.  A daffodil smells like a daffodil.  A pine tree smells like a pine tree.  You…excuse me, _my Felicity_ smells like _my Felicity_.”

“Okay, first of all…why _on earth_ would I smell like daffodils and lavender?” Felicity argued. It wasn’t liked she had a penchant for flowery shampoos and perfumes were not something ARGUS allowed on most missions…huh.  Maybe _that_ was why she didn’t smell like anything but herself. 

“That’s my point,” Oliver declared as if he had won… _whatever_ game they were playing. Which he most certainly was not.  And as soon as she figured out what the objective was, Felicity was going to make sure he was aware of that.  “Fine…should I say computers and coffee?”

Okay, _maybe_ Felicity smelled like coffee.  Most of the time.  It was even a nice smell, but…  “Do computers have a smell?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Oliver answered, all wide-eyed innocence.

“Then how could I _smell_ like them?” Felicity challenged.  

“Exactly,” Oliver declared with his best duh-face.  “You don’t.”

Felicity shook her head. Okay, maybe she’d argued _Oliver’s_ point not hers.  But she didn’t have a point.  After all the fuss he was making Felicity just wanted was to know what she _did_ smell like.  Because the only think that could…

Eyes, widening, Felicity gasped in (only semi-mock) outrage.  “Are you claiming that my _sweat_ has its own unique smell, Oliver Queen?”

Oliver was basically calling her out for having BO and that really felt like something Felicity should be annoyed by.

Though, being irritated was really hard when Oliver was wearing a dopy grin and looking like it was his favorite thing in the world as he pondered, “Sweat.  Pheromones.  I’m no scientist.  How do _I_ know where the smell comes from?  Hey, I thought you were Fairy-mermaid Felicity, not Scientist Felicity?  Surely, fairy-mermaids believe that smells come from…I dunno, pixie dust or something?  And why a fairy _and_ a mermaid?  Shouldn’t you be one or the other?”

Okay, it was just impossible to be annoyed when he was like this.  He was too adorable.  Besides, Oliver had his own sweat-smell and it was intoxicating so she could, but he found hers lovely as well.

“Uh… _no_ ,” Felicity scoffed, upping the pretend outrage in her voice, because if she conceded just because he was cute she was done for.  Like in life.  “ _Clearly_ , you know nothing about magical creatures, Mr. Judgey!”

Besides, Felicity was still determined to win this game.  Who needed actual rules and objectives to win?  Not her, that was for sure.

Oliver’s eyes widened comically.  “ _Wow_ , fairy-mermaids are sen-si- _tive_.  But _my_ Felicity…” he leaned closer.   “You know what, I need a better smell.”

Oliver lunged at her, grabbing Felicity beneath the armpits, lifting her as if he was going to smell…

Dear lord, Oliver skimmed right past Felicity’s arm pits, lifting her further as if he were going to smell her…in that other place polite society did _not_ acknowledge smells!

And…okay, _no_. 

Squealing her indignation, Felicity fought him.  Catching the edge of the pool with her feet, she was able to out leverage him and push off, yanking out of Oliver’s grasp and plunging back into the water. 

And, just in case Oliver decided to be smug about that, Felicity immediately set about attacking him with full-out splash assault.  She did pretty well, too.  He mermaid half would be proud. 

“Okay, okay,” Oliver gasped, sounding like he was having trouble speaking as he convulsed with laughter.  It just made Felicity splash harder.  Until, covering his face with his hands (cause fairy-water was very damaging), he cried, “Uncle.  Uncle.  You win.  You are _definitely_ my Felicity!”

Ha!  That was more like it!

Felicity immediately stopped her splashing and nodded with satisfaction.  There was nothing quite like the words ‘you win’ from Oliver Queen’s delectable lips (she knew she hadn’t needed silly things like goals to win the game).  “Damn tootin’.”

That seemed to trigger another burst of laughter as Oliver sat up, wiping the water from his face.  “Yup, only _my_ Felicity would say, ‘Damn tootin’.’”

Ignoring the possible dig (she _had_ won), Felicity swam back over as Oliver lowered himself to sit on the shelf, so the warm water lapped at his navel.  He ran his hand over his now dripping from his hair.  A sight she found the sight both sexy and gratifying.

Felicity could have easily walked to him since this was the shallow part of the pool, but she decided to swim anyway.  The water felt to good to leave.  She settled on her knees in front of Oliver and laid her hands on his thighs (‘cause they were there and why wouldn’t she?).  Only her shoulders were above the water, but with the light of the glow ball beneath she was sure he could make out enough to get that _delicious_ anticipation building again.   

Then Oliver grabbed a protein bar.

Apparently, the fun was over.  Nothin’ delicious there.

“Echh,” Felicity groaned before she could catch herself and Oliver sent her a disapproving look.  Crap.  He was going to be so much worse than the worst mother-hen in the CAVE.  “Come on, don’t tell me you’re actually excited to eating more of these stupid bars.”

Because, really, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to _eat_.  Felicity just wasn’t thrilled with the menu.  It so didn’t go with the ambiance.

Oliver’s only response was a shrug.  What could he say?  It wasn’t like he could claim to _enjoy_ the taste.  Felicity knew for a fact that he had an even more refined palate than she did.

But then, as if to prove a point (whatever _that_ was), Oliver shoved half a bar into his mouth, making Felicity wrinkle her nose.  Yuck.

Once Oliver was done chewing, he mused, “Damn shame about that quail,” as he held out the other half of the bar to her.  Yup, he liked the menu as much as she did.  “Another mark against Darhk.  That bird gave his life for nothing.”

Yeah.  _That’s_ what happened.  Felicity leveled Oliver with a challenging look.  “That bird gave his life so you could vent your pent-up anger and aggression.”  She was all for owning her bad behavior, but damn if she wasn’t calling him out on his.

Oliver’s eyes gleamed, telling her the challenge was accepted, but all he did was wiggle the bar at her.  Apparently, he wasn’t playing until Felicity ate the thing.

Fine.  Not a problem.  Grinning, Felicity curled her fingers into Oliver’s thighs, capturing his gaze and holding it as she leaned forward and slowly closed her lips around the bar.

It tasted like cardboard (as Felicity knew it would), but she was able to take solace in the way Oliver’s eyes dilated and his lids drooped.

The corners of his lips tipped up in a ridiculously sensual way. “I can’t believe you are mocking me for trying to provide for my girl,” he rasped, finally taking her gambit and running with it.  Game on.  “The bird was an offering of courtship and it was coldly rejected.”

Pure joy came bubbling out of her in the form of a wave of laughter.  It was the most ridiculous interpretation of the ‘quail incident’ Felicity could imagine and…

Could they just stay here, like _this,_ forever?  Please? 

Felicity wouldn’t even complain if they had to eat these dreaded protein bars for the rest of their lives.  All she needed was Oliver. Sweet.  Playful.   Loving.  Safe.

Oliver threw his hands into the air, shaking his head with mock outrage at her laughter. “And, _still_ , she mocks my efforts!”

“I would _never_!” Felicity gasped, hand to her heart.  Then smiling, she grabbed the hand that held the bar and snatched up the rest, her tongue and teeth taking the time to graze his fingers.  Oliver tasted good, but still mostly cardboard.  “Next time maybe try offerings of fruit and nuts.  This _is_ Magical Fairyland.”

“Um…I think I brought you plenty of fruit.  _Before_ the quail.  The bird was me upping my game,” Oliver argued, pressing the canteen into her hand.

“Touché,” Felicity conceded, swallowing another giggle as she took the offering.  She needed help to wash the cardboard down.

“ _Also_ , I don’t think nuts would help my cause since they could kill the girl I was wooing.” Oliver’s slightly green look as he said it was not a part of the game.

Felicity hadn’t even thought of that.  Funny.  All those pesky _reality_ -type things seemed to fade away in the wake of their fantasyscape surroundings. 

“Pft,” Felicity waved off his concerns with a flick of her wrist, trying to wipe away Mr. Serious-face and get back Playful Oliver.  “There is no anaphylaxis in Magical Fairyland.”

But Oliver didn’t seem to find that very amusing.  “Let’s not test that, okay?”

Felicity rolled her eyes as soon as he turned to grab another bar.  It wasn’t like they had any nuts anyway and, if they did, she wasn’t so far gone that she’d actually eat them.  He was getting huffy over nothing.  She tried not to frown as Oliver unwrapped another—

Wait one second.

“Oooo…pulling out all those wooing stops _now,_ aren’t we, Mr. Queen?” Felicity hummed the breathless rasp in her voice coming out remarkably naturally.

Oliver’s dimples flashed as he broke off and held out a piece of _the_ Double Fudge Brownie protein bar.  The mecca of all ARGUS protein bars.  The lone pint of Ben and Jerry’s in a sea of Walmart-brand ice cream.  No, Walmart ice cream was still ice cream.  It was a lone pint of Ben and Jerrys in a freezer full of Walmart-brand Tofutti. 

ARGUS carefully rationed the Double Fudge Brownie (yes, it was the only bar that got all capitals).  Wouldn’t want their agents to get too comfortable.

“Mmmm,” Felicity hummed before she even opened her mouth.  Then she, again, held Oliver’s eyes as she took the bite from his fingers.  But this time she lingered, taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking them until all remnants of chocolate were gone.  (it was the only bar dipped in _real_ chocolate made of _real_ sugar).

His eyes became a stormy midnight blue, a low growl rumbling out of his throat.  But the thing that gave Felicity a real thrill was the way Oliver’s cock popped out of the water, peeking out to play, as she gave his fingers one final suck.

“Well, hello there,” Felicity crooned.  “Have we been neglecting you?”

It was strangely adorable the way the head of his cock bounced there, almost as if it was nodding at her.  But not nearly as adorable as the pink that appeared on Oliver’s cheeks.  He tried to hide behind a wry, “You have no idea,” but he was fooling no one.

Felicity grinned.  What was she to do but lean down and press a lingering kiss on the poor baby’s spongy tip.  So eager to play.  How could she deny him?

Then Felicity giggled as his cock jumped, not just a little bob but a full-on jump, hitting her on her lower lip as if to say, ‘Come on now?  Is that all you got? I’m dying here.’

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty…_ ” Oliver growled.  It sounded more a warning than encouragement, though she had no idea why he could possibly want her to stop.  And the sweet boy in front of her had a completely different agenda.

She responded in the only logical manner.  Felicity sucked the tip of Oliver’s cock like a lollypop.  Mmmm, even better than Double Fudge Brownie.  The gasp and breathy groan that followed certainly wasn’t _dis_ couraging.

It took a gentle hand cupping her cheek for Felicity to realize her eyes had slipped closed.  Blinking them open, she glanced up at Oliver, the tip of his cock resting on her tongue.  She raised one eyebrow in question.  And maybe in challenge. 

Oliver let out a groaning sort of laugh and admonished, his voice deep and raspy, “You’re _supposed_ to be eating.”

Was _that_ what he was about?  Still?

Didn’t matter.  Oliver had fed Felicity her answer on a silver plater, so to speak.  “I am.” She flashed him a cheeky grin before sucking the tip back between her lips.

His next groan certainly sounded like surrender.  Oliver’s head fell back and Felicity couldn’t take her eyes off the strong line of his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

_That_ got Felicity to stop.  Temporarily anyway.  “I certainly hope not,” she admonished.  If she needed to stop jinxing them, so did Oliver. 

No more curses.  No more jinxes.  Positive thinking _only_.

His head lolled on his shoulders and he rolled it to look down at her in a lazy, almost drug-addled way.  Felicity thought Oliver’s eyes looked glassy, but his face was just beyond her good vision so he was too hazy to say for sure.  His fingers caressed her cheek and she leaned into it. 

“Death of me.  Life of me.  _All_ of me.  Everything,” Oliver whispered, soft and sincere.

And there went another zinger, straight to the heart.  It knocked Felicity’s breath right out of her.

“Are you still playing at _not_ being the sappiest, most romantic man that ever lived?” Felicity meant it to be teasing, but her voice was too soft and breathless to really pull it off.

Oliver hooked his elbows over the edge of the Cenote, resting them on the warn rock floor and leaning back bonelessly.  “Don’t know about ‘ever lived’, but…all I ever claimed was that it was only for _you_.”

Well, _that_ deserved another kiss.  And since his lips were very far away and his cock was right _here_ …Felicity went with the most practical solution. 

One kiss led to another and Oliver sucked in a hissing breath, his abs tightening in the most appetizing way.  “Baby…we need to finish lunch first.”

Well, at least Oliver no longer sounded enthusiastic about the prospect.  But he was practically begging and that was a lot harder to ignore.  Felicity lifted her head, letting his cock slip free, with the one and only goal of sending him a nice dark frown.

The sneaky bastard took the opportunity to push a chunk of Double Fudge Brownie into her mouth.  It didn’t taste like cardboard, but neither was it the flavor Felicity was currently craving.  Since that would have to wait until she at least swallowed, she decided she wasn’t letting his fingers go without a fight.  It was the very least Oliver deserved.

First scrapping those sneaky fingers with her teeth, Felicity rolled them along her tongue then sucked his thumb…she must have pushed it just past Oliver’s tipping point, because one second she was enjoying chocolate flavored digits and the next she was being lifted out of the water and his lips were crashing onto hers. 

But, really, not a turn of events Felicity had a problem with.  They batted the last bit of chocolate between their mouths as their tongues dueled and played.

When Oliver finally released her lips, he was breathless and his eyes were _definitely_ glassy (Felicity did prefer his face being in her field of vision).  He licked his lips and she couldn’t take her eyes off them.  “I forgot how good the Double Fudge was.”

Oliver’s voice was damn sexy.  But _not_ so sexy Felicity didn’t catch the (undoubtedly _un_ intended) implication and she narrowed her eyes at him.  “You’ve been giving me your share, haven’t you?”

He gave her that damn Boy Scout look, complete with guileless shrug (and how he was so good at that Felicity couldn’t guess.  He sure as hell wasn’t ever Boy Scout). 

“There’s plenty left,” was what he said.  What Oliver _meant_ was he’d been saving them for her.

Instead of arguing, Felicity grabbed what was left of the bar and broke it in half (it was a mess of melty chocolate at this point).  “Open up, Buttercup.”  Because she had to wonder if, while Oliver was diligently feeding her, he’d been eating enough himself.  Especially given he should be eating a _minimum_ of twice what she ate.

Oliver rolled his eyes, but he obediently opened his mouth and Felicity popped first one piece, then, before he could protest, pushed in the last bite as well.  She’d had enough.  Packed with protein and calories as they were, two of these bars could sustain her for a full day, Oliver not so much.  

Maybe his preoccupation with food was as much because _his_ body wasn’t getting what it needed as concern for her.  Oliver had self-sacrifice down to an art form, but this was ridiculous.  Felicity was going to have to be more vigilant.

Later.  She would be more vigilant later.

Right now, Felicity had other plans.  Ones that involved taking her chocolate smeared hand (before Oliver had a chance to lick it clean) and wrapping it around the portion of his cock still very much standing tall, above the water.  She took just a moment to spread the treat on his skin before quickly swooping down and enveloping the fat head with her lips, swirling her tongue to capture all of the sugary goodness. Her hand stroked him down to the base and was washed clean.

He tasted so much better than Felicity remembered (chocolate or not) and the soft and varied way Oliver chanted her name was more addictive than any drug she had ever come in contact with.  She pumped her hand up and down his length as her lips gave their full attention to those two inches reaching above the water. 

But as awesome as those two inches were, Felicity needed more.

They _both_ needed more.

A deep groan scrapped over Felicity’s senses, louder now, and the heady rush of arousal spread.  With the next pump of her fist, she impulsively followed her hand with her lips, pushing down, until her face was submerged in the water.  She breathed out her nose as she sucked Oliver in, taking in as much as she could manage.

It wasn’t to the root.  Not yet.  It had been awhile.  Felicity needed to work back up to that, but she was utterly confident she’d get there.

She held her breath as long as she could, savoring the little jerking motions, the way Oliver pushed into her mouth before catching himself.  The way his nails dug into his thighs as he struggled for composure.   Felicity could feel his slight tremor as it sent tiny ripples through the water, just before his hand moved to her hair and gently tugged her up.

As Felicity broke the surface, she she took in a large gasping breath and his clock regrettably fell from her lips.  She’d pushed her limits and her head was swimming with the buzz of oxygen deprivation.  It was quite the rush. 

She smiled in triumph as her eyes devoured the man before her.  Oliver looked absolutely _wrecked_ , slouched back again the bank of the pool, gleaming with sweat, chest heaving…he was breathing a hell of a lot harder than Felicity and it filled her with satisfaction. 

“ _Felicity_ …”

Her grin spread and she tightened her hand around his cock, angling it toward her mouth as she—

“Felicity.  _No_.”

It was enough of a surprise to make Felicity jerk her head up and meet his eyes.  “No?”

What did he mean, ‘No’?  She’d never heard anything so silly?

“Sunshine…” Oliver huffed out a desperate sort of laugh.  “I can’t… _you_ can’t do that?”

“Why not?” Was she missing something?  Because Felicity thought ‘that’ had been going quite well.

Oliver’s next breathless laugh was disbelieving, as if whatever silly worry bouncing around his head should be obvious.  “Because…cause you could…”  He seemed to be struggling for the words to explain his nonsense.  Because…nonsense.  Finally, he settled on, “You could drown.”

Felicity gave that the only response it deserved.  A snort, accompanied by an eye-roll, and followed up by ignoring Oliver completely and swallowing him as deep as she was able.  She could _drown_?  Seriously?  The water barely covered her head.

If Oliver argued further, Felicity wasn’t able to hear him.  All there was was the peaceful sound of water flowing around her head as she hollowed out her cheeks and did her best to reassure him of the safety of her game.  Or to distract him.  Whichever worked.

It was amazing, really, how quickly this all came back to her.  The intimate knowledge.  Every little thing that drove Oliver crazy.  Like how the slight drag of Felicity’s teeth along his shaft made the hand threaded into her hair go slack for a moment and his thigh muscles ripple. 

Oliver recovered far too quickly for her tastes, though, and tried to force her out of the water.

Felicity give in to the gentle pull, but as soon as her nose emerged from the water and Oliver’s grip eased, she took a quick breath and pushed down until he hit the back of her throat.  She thought she heard a muffled scream but beneath the water it might as well have been on the other side of a brick wall.

Being submerged gave Felicity a strange sort of quiet.  Peaceful and incredibly intimate.  It was just her and Oliver.  Well, her and very specific _parts_ of Oliver.  She kinda sorta loved it. 

She thought she lasted a second or two longer this time before she had to pull back and breathe.  She was grateful that, this time, Oliver hadn’t tried to stop her.  As a reward, Felicity made sure to give him maximum stimulation on the way out, teeth and tongue and even bubbles (hoping they might tickle his sensitive skin).  

When Felicity emerged, it was with the same gasp for air and the same feeling of triumph as before.

But as fun as this was, Felicity had to admit the frequent breaks for air were a problem.  Each time she broke contact, she pulled Oliver back from the edge.  It must be torture for him. 

Not that that was a _bad_ thing.  Turnabout _was_ fair play. Oliver was the one who said he enjoyed the _delicious_ anticipation.

Whipping her hair out of her face…yup.  Poor Oliver looked tortured for sure.  Desperate. Wrecked.  Dazed.

It made Felicity so damn proud.

She decided she had no problem ‘torturing’ him for…oh an hour or so.  But when Felicity tried to make her third decent, Oliver’s hand shot out, stopping her.  “Na…na… _no_ …” 

Felicity had to say, incoherent was a good look on him.

“Can’t do it.  Can’t keep it up.  Can’t take it.”

She huffed out a breathless laugh.  Felicity wasn’t sure if Oliver was referring to her or himself.  Actually, she didn’t think _he_ knew.

“Come mere…” Oliver reached for, trying to draw Felicity into his lap.

Felicity evaded Oliver’s grasp, shaking her head.  “Oh no.  Nope.  It’s _my_ turn.”

Oliver’s eyes cleared a bit and he flashed her an amused look.  His hands skimmed her shoulders as he tried to get a grip (already planning to use those damn muscles to get his way, the brute).  “I’m pretty damn sure I haven’t gotten _my_ turn yet.  I’d remember if _I_ had a turn.” 

His eyes trailed over her body leaving a trail of fire that the water did little to cool.  Felicity had to wonder how clearly he could see her body under in clear pool.  For the look on his face, Felicity would guess pretty well.  He looked as if he very much wanted to pull her over his face and…

_Frak_ , it was tempting. 

Felicity’s core clenched.  With anticipation. With _enthusiasm_ for Oliver’s undoubtedly brilliant plan.  Yet…

Pushing Oliver’s hands away, Felicity gave him a firm, “ _No_.  It’s my turn now.  I get to make _you_ incoherent, my big beautiful freak.”

And, wow, calling Oliver that after so long…it triggered a rush of Déjà vu.  A million memories assailed her.   It felt even more intimate than sucking his cock. 

Huh.  Imagine that. 

Maybe it was the way Oliver was looking at her like he could stare straight into Felicity’s soul.  Like he was laying his own bare for her.  There was something pretty damn heady about that two-way street thing.

Then, because that wasn’t enough, Oliver murmured, “Baby, you _own_ me.”

He enjoyed seeing her cry.  That was the only explanation.

“I don’t need…” Felicity’s voice failed her.  She closed her eyes and sucked in long breath, fighting the burn in her throat.  When she opened them again it was to see Oliver staring down at her with adoration and that helped the emotion choking her not even a little.  “I don’t need to _own_ you.  I just need to love you.  To _show_ you how much I love you.  To give you the same pleasure, the same _release_ you gave me.  _Please_.  Let me.”

Felicity didn’t wait for Oliver to respond.  But, really, how could he say ‘no’ to a request like that? 

Had Oliver ever refused her when she said ‘please’?

When Felicity’s mouth closed over him again, Oliver’s his hips rose to meet her.  Poor baby.  So conflicted.

“Fuck,” Oliver gasped as Felicity sucked in a large breath through her nose before pushing down again.

This time, Oliver didn’t fight his own body.  His hips continued to press up into her mouth and, at first, Felicity thought he had finally lost control.  Or at least given in. 

Either way, yay her.

But when Felicity’s nose met skin and she was very much _not_ under water she finally realized what Oliver’s play was. 

Felicity pulled off with a wet sucking pop, looking up and...nearly swallowing her tongue.

With his elbows over the lip of the pool, Oliver had created a plank with his body.  A perfect incline.  It threw all those glorious muscles into definition for Felicity to feast on.  God bless the man’s core.

The shadows and the rays of sunlight filtering through the vines, the water droplets on his abs, sparking as they rolled and caught in those unreal ridges…

“Frak, if that’s not the most beautiful sight.”

Oliver’s chuckle was the only reason Felicity knew she said it out loud.  But the slight note of disbelief in the sound was the reason she was glad she had.

Felicity didn’t give it another thought and, instead, ran her tongue over that eight-pack cause…who could resist?  Why would _she_?  Talk about feast laid out for her.

She was distracted enough that she almost missed Oliver’s slightly delayed response.  “That’s because you don’t have the view I have.”

Felicity’s eyes flew to his and the reverence she saw there…there was no way those were meaningless words. 

A part of her felt she should argue her side.  Felicity was quite certain that she was correct in this one, but it was unlikely Oliver would come around to her point of view and, really, did she want him too?  Plus, her time was much better spent tracing her tongue along his hip bone…then up the length of his cock.

Underwater was fun, but it didn’t allow for the same level of exploration and relearning.  Oliver’s eyelids twitched and his breathing shortened and Felicity thanked heavens for her good near vision even as she wondered how long he could hold himself up like this.

Long enough for her to trace every muscle?  Every scar and vein?

Probably.  But when his head fell back and he lost the battle with his eyelids (a very _un_ -Oliver whimper escaping) Felicity took pity on him (or maybe she just lost the last of her own patience) and she swallowed him whole.

The roar that erupted was…worth _everything_.  It was as satisfying as Felicity’s own orgasms had been and _that_ was really saying something. 

Felicity was pretty sure she’d go off in seconds if she let him touch her now.  But she was far more interested in his pleasure.

Not letting up for a second (had to take advantage of the above-water-ness, just in case it didn’t last), Felicity moved her lips up and down Oliver’s shaft, making sure to add a tongue swirl and an extra suckle at the top. 

Just like riding a bike. 

God bless muscle memory because, judging by the ecstatic noises floating around her, Felicity was doing a _damn_ good job.  It made her feel proud and accomplished and so fraking turned on. 

And very motivated to keep improving.  To take every bit of Oliver’s considerable length.

Felicity took him until she felt his cock hit the back of her throat, then sucked air in through her nose and took more. 

Oliver yelled.

Felicity’s ears rang and her throat burned.  She had to fight her gag reflex and she couldn’t breathe and…

It was completely perfect.

Maybe it was the magic fairy water or even that elusive sexual healing, because after years of panic attacks, of dreading not getting enough air into her lungs…the feel of Oliver’s cock cutting off her airway made Felicity feel nothing but relaxed.

And powerful.

And _happy_.

Oliver hips spasmed and she was sure it had nothing to do with his position, but she couldn’t hold him in her throat any longer and Felicity pulled back, swallowing as she did, relishing his screams as her throat rippled around the head of his cock.  When she reached the top, this time, she breathed through her nose and went right back down.  The last thing she wanted to do was let him go.

Felicity knew Oliver was at the end of his rope when his hips began to stutter and he gasped, “Felicity…are you sure?  _Really_ sure…?”

Because even though Felicity had never _not_ swallowed, not _once_ in their wild and varied sexual past, Oliver still asked if she was sure.

Every.  Damn. Time.

What had initially endearing had become something that triggered frustrated laughter.

Now it made Felicity’s eyes burn.

Felicity’s response was what it always was, always had been…to go deep and suck hard, her tongue massaging the vein on the bottom of Oliver’s cock as she waited for him to fall.

And with a familiarity that was almost painful in its intensity, Oliver broke free.  With two small stuttering thrusts into Felicity’s mouth, he lost the last of his control and his hips thrust hard, his muscles going taught as he flooded her throat.

Felicity swallowed furiously to keep from gagging, because she knew that would only result in guilt and endless apologies.  When what she wanted to do was thank him. 

For giving so much of himself.  For allowing himself to be vulnerable.  For _trusting_ her.

She eased up as Oliver started to soften, his muscles unlocking one by one as he sunk back into the water.  Felicity gave his cock one last kiss before it disappeared below the surface.  And, as she licked her lips and looked up at Oliver’s wrecked face, she felt such contentment…it was mind-blowing.

“ _Fuck_ , Sunshine…”

Oliver’s delirious sounding words triggered a bubble of giddy laughter and Felicity gave his cock a last gentle and affectionate squeeze.  “Someone missed me, I guess.”

“There wasn’t a part of me that didn’t miss you.”  Oliver’s words were the exact opposite of Felicity’s light and teasing tone.  Deep and filled with emotion.  Lingering pain spilling out around them, throwing her off balance.

Before she had a chance to react, or even process the change, Oliver reached for her and this time Felicity didn’t hesitate.  She climbed onto his lap and settled her knees on either side of his.  Resting her arms on his shoulders and her forehead against his, she waited for his breathing return to normal.

Felicity’s body was humming and ready for more.  Ready for _his turn_ but…

Something like concern was building in Felicity’s belly as she watched Oliver’s closed eyelids and felt him clutch her just a hair too tightly.  After an orgasm like that he should be relaxed, but his touch was nothing short of desperate.

Still not opening his eyes, Oliver breathed a reverent, “ _Felicity_ ,” and he sounded like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. 

She could certainly relate to that.  Felicity dragged her nails through his short hair, down along his stubbled cheeks, hoping the sensation was what he needed prove how real she was, how real _this_ was, as she murmured back, “Yes, my love?”

As she said it, Felicity couldn’t help but think…god, she _really_ loved it here.  It felt like those last five years were just a bad dream.

But there was something in Oliver’s expression told her he wasn’t feeling the same sense of peace.  “Felicity… _Felicity_ …”

Oliver opened his eyes and there were storm clouds in their dark-blue depths.  Where had her happy, playful Oliver gone?

Concern built, but…not worry.  Not really.  His eyes may have held pain, but they were open.  So beautifully honest and open.  Felicity wasn’t afraid of the secrets they held. 

Not anymore.

“What is it, love?” Felicity whispered, her voice becoming soothing without even trying.  It was pure instinct the way her voice and her hands gentled.  “You can tell me anything.”

Oliver let out a sound that was almost a sob and his eyes filled with tears.  “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …”  He broke off with a dark sort of laugh.  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Felicity stroked Oliver’s cheek and searched his face.  A myriad of emotions fought for prominence.  She’d seen this briefly in the Chamber, after she had pushed and pushed until he’d broke, lost all control. 

But instead of anger, this was…quieter.  Sadder.  Maybe even…anguished.  It took Felicity’s heart and squeezed it tight.

It was as if, by pushing him to lose control during sex, he’d lost control of his emotions as well, letting out things that Oliver didn’t know how to pick back up.  Felicity couldn’t help but feel since she was the one who had shattered those walls, it her job to clean up whatever was left behind.

And the crazy part was it didn’t bother her.  It was a job Felicity _wanted_.  Relished even. All her anxiety and panic were gone and, instead, Felicity was filled with a complete assurance that together, they could get through anything.

Felicity cupped Oliver’s cheek, looked into his eyes, and told him what she felt in her very soul, “I know that I want to hear _anything_ you want to tell me.  I know there is _no_ part of you that I don’t love and _nothing_ you could say or do will ever change that.”

Then Felicity watched Oliver crumble and got ready to pick up the pieces and put them back together again.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve probably already guessed that the next chapter will be as angsty as this was fluffy.  It’s time to address some of Oliver’s demons.  Pay careful attention to the warnings at the beginning of the next chapter because it gets _dark_ at times. 
> 
> I had really hoped to have Chapter 25 up next Sunday, but the only way that is possible is if I only do two full edits instead of three.  I go back and forth between feeling that last edit is necessary and that it is a perfectionist I waste of time.  I expect I’ll change my mind a dozen time in the next few days, but I’ll make a final decision by Thursday and if the chapter will be up and will post a preview on Tumblr.
> 
> I can’t make any promises.  Life has just been too chaotic but I’m pretty excited about some of these up coming chapters so that helps when life and season 6 plot bunnies threaten to derail me.
> 
> As always, thank you to my lovely support system, **mariposablue9, Imusuallyobsessed** , and  **Ireland1733** and to everyone kind enough to leave comments and kudos.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
> (Emmilynestill on Tumblr and Twitter)
> 
>  
> 
>  

**Author's Note:**

> Personal Note: 
> 
> Ten years ago, I was having significant fertility problems. When I started to think that it might not be a problem that could be solved, I turned to my fanfiction writing to help to deal with the emotions. I started to write a version of this story…staring Ron and Hermione (my fandom at the time). My intent was to write a fantasy piece that dealt with the real emotions of an unfixable fertility problem (no magic pregnancies). 
> 
> Finally, after two years, I was able to get pregnant and this story was a causality of my severe morning sickness. In looking for inspiration for the Olicity Fic Big Bang, I realized that I could use the same basic structure to make an Olicity AU. Of course, it turned out far to long for OFBB, but by then I was completely obsessed with this idea. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the journey, as painful as it is at points. I guarantee a Happy Ever After. 
> 
> Historical Note: 
> 
> The Mayan are an indigenous people of Mesoamerica (southern Mexico, Guatemala and Belize), who reached their peak 2800BC-250AD. They left behind spectacular Temples and Ruins. I recommend googling the images. Tikal is possibly the most important site in Guatemala and the Temple of the Jaguar the most prominent building. Everything that happens under the Temple, is completely made up, including the Obsidian Skull. Though, artists have certainly carved those throughout the years. 
> 
> Also of note, when I googled “best red wine in Guatemala," the first several hits were of rum. 
> 
> Final Note: 
> 
> My Tumblr got a revamp for this story, which I’m quite proud of, so come check it out and say “hi.” You can also see all of my Olicity Travels pics! 
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
> Emmy


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